“Do you know what I believe is the main function of anything creative—be it performing arts, fine arts, films, books? It is
to heal.
Creativity has the power to heal—the creator as well as those exposed to it. A good creation can be therapeutic. It may ruffle your beliefs, challenge your intelligence, and instigate your thought processes, but ultimately it must soothe. It must mend broken spirits, touch a core, and harmonize the turbulent highs and lows of the agitated human mind. The process and the product must automatically trigger a process of healing. That is what creativity means to
me.
”
Jay stared at her, his eyes widening in amazement.
“Hey, what're you two talking about?” Nimisha slipped into the chair on Sonia's left.
“Nothing special.” Sonia shrugged.
“In that case, why don't we start our horoscope-reading session?” Nimisha asked.
“Here?” Sonia indicated the swirling crowds.
“Oh. They're all drunk and happy. They won't bother us. Jay, have you your horoscope on you?”
Jay nodded, a little sheepishly.
“Okay, you first,” Nimisha ordered.
Sonia ran an eye over the handwritten horoscope and felt a familiar tingling of excitement. Horoscopes—X-rays of people. Honest revelations of deep dark secrets. In a way, she enjoyed the power she experienced the moment she began analyzing the twelve houses with their star combinations. Wasn't this another kind of creativity, intended to serve and to heal?
As she studied Jay's interesting horoscope, another chair was drawn on Jay's right. K.Kusum flashed her pleasant smile. Sonia acknowledged the gesture, then concentrated on the horoscope in hand. Full of dramatic twists and turns, mired with love affairs and a dangerous streak . . . As she began a narration of Jay's past, she sensed his restlessness. It was always like that. The desire to know. And then the distinct feeling of having too much revealed.
“You are getting more and more embroiled in something unpleasant,” Sonia concluded.
“Unpleasant?” Jay asked unnecessarily.
Sonia fixed an uncompromising gaze on him. “Need I put it in black and white?”
“Well . . .” Jay hesitated, and Nimisha watched him curiously. “No, I . . . I think I know what you're talking about. But is there any way, I mean, any chance of getting out of this . . . situation?”
“Yes. This year, before Jupiter changes. A clean cut, before it's too late.”
“It's already too late,” Jay murmured, and Sonia felt a little sorry for him.
“Don't worry. You will get out of it,” she assured with a smile, and handed him the piece of paper.
“Now my turn!” Nimisha said, with an almost childlike glee.
“And mine, after that,” K.Kusum added, with a smile.
“Oh, well then, you first, Kusum. I'll go last.” Nimisha offered grandly.
The two women were smiling at each other, but Sonia detected something. Hostility? Friction between the actress and the Choreographer? She shook her head off the fancies and turned to K.Kusum.
“By the way, thanks for the berries, Kusum, they're delicious!” Jay said pleasantly.
“Oh yes, thanks a lot,” Nimisha remarked.
Kusum smiled. “Just a gesture to express my pleasure at the wonderful time we shared together.”
“Same here. We worked with perfect co-ordination for this shoot,” Jay agreed.
Kusum handed Sonia a booklet, a traditional plotting of the stars. Sonia turned to the ascendant horoscope. From the corner of her eye, she saw Chirag emerge from behind the cottages and head toward them. Another chair was drawn and she glanced up fleetingly. Chirag nodded a hello and completed the circle of interested listeners around Sonia. Laughter and drunken voices mingled in the cool night air. The smell of kebabs and curries pervaded the night scents and Sonia sighed. She sensed it. Something strong and unexpected. Something inevitable.
“You've come a long way, haven't you? Hard work, plenty of it, and you still had to struggle to get your due,” she began.
“Absolutely right,” K.Kusum agreed.
“Oh, she's worked hard enough,” Nimisha agreed, and K.Kusum glanced at her sharply.
“You'll be doing at least two things at a time. Both creative . . . Do you also have a business?”
“Yes. I'm in the jewelry business. I design and produce semi-precious jewelry. But my first love will always be dance,” the Choreographer explained.
“That's understandable. You're good at your work!” Chirag agreed.
Sonia was silent for a moment. Then she continued, on a more sober note. “You had a tough childhood. Your siblings . . . Do you have an invalid in the family?” she asked abruptly.
K.Kusum looked startled. “How did you know that?”
The others glanced at her, astounded. All except Nimisha. The expression on her friend's face took Sonia by surprise. An arrogant, almost hateful smile curved Nimisha's lips.
“A horoscope can be a source of many surprises,” Sonia explained, then waited for the Choreographer to speak.
“Yes, my younger sister. She's always unwell, can barely get out of the house—”
“You never mentioned her,” Chirag interrupted.
“I didn't feel the need to.”
“Yes, but—” Jay spoke up.
“Look, let's drop it, okay? I don't want your sympathy!” K.Kusum's sharp brush-off took everyone by surprise.
“As you wish!” Chirag shrugged. He extracted a cigarette and lit it nonchalantly.
Only Nimisha maintained a steady, unblinking gaze, her eyes hard and cruel. The Choreographer met her stare with defiance.
“Who's next?” Sonia asked, and Chirag promptly forwarded his horoscope.
She opened the booklet and spent a studied moment over the star combinations. Then she glanced up at Chirag. “You have success and fame and money, but there's one thing missing in your life. Or should I say
someone
?” Her eyes betrayed compassion.
Chirag's face registered candid astonishment, then a pained expression flashed in his eyes. It was obvious that this was the last thing he expected Sonia to mention. “Hit the nail on the head,” he remarked bitterly.
“You experienced real love a long time ago, didn't you?” Sonia continued, and the others glanced at him expectantly.
“Yes, a very long time ago. We were in the Film Institute together, madly in love, and dreaming of growing rich, famous, and old together. She was very talented. But one fine day, she simply vanished! I've never gotten over her!”
“How sad!” Nimisha exclaimed.
“Now I know why you never married,” Jay said sympathetically. “Obviously, you must've tried very hard to search for her?”
“I moved heaven and earth, looking up all her friends, going to places she had mentioned even casually. I tried everything, but to no avail.” Chirag sighed, puffing on his cigarette. “I guess what has to happen does. After all, everything happens for a reason, doesn't it? Some call it Destiny.”
The others murmured agreement. Only K.Kusum was silent.
Sonia glanced at the horoscope again and remarked, “But you will meet her again. One day.”
Chirag looked startled. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Since Jupiter has entered your seventh house. Since last July.”
The Director stared at her, a contemplative gleam in his eyes. Not a pleased, happy look, Sonia observed. Which was odd . . .
K.Kusum turned to Sonia, a sudden enthusiasm on her face.
“Do you think you can read my sister's horoscope and tell me a few things?”
“Of course,” Sonia replied a little hesitantly.
“Good. I'll go fetch it.”
“In the meanwhile, I'm next,” Nimisha remarked dryly.
Sonia watched K.Kusum leave the table and head toward her cottage. What a strange woman! One moment she was most unwilling to talk about her invalid sister, and the next she was anxious to show her horoscope. She wished she'd had more time to read Kusum's horoscope. There was something in it which she had meant to explore . . . something she'd meant to say but was interrupted. What was it? . . .
But before she could spare it another thought, a chill ran down her spine. K.Kusum staggered out of her cottage. She was lurching and fighting for breath, holding her throat in agony. Sonia started, throwing her chair backwards. “Call a Doctor!” she yelled.
The others turned as she sprinted just in time to catch the falling, gasping woman. Kusum's face was changing color. She was spluttering, desperate to say something.
“What is it, Kusum? . . . What happened?” Sonia urged.
“I
. . . He can't read. . . .
” K.Kusum took a last gasp and was still. Her hand slid to the ground, and a raspberry rolled onto the lawn.
Sonia stared at the woman. Kusum's face was contorted. She sensed rather than saw the crowd gathering around them, shocked murmurs and stifled screams thickening the atmosphere. She rose, and someone hastened forward, stooping over the dead woman. Dazed, Sonia glided aside, and found Jatin beside her. Solid, steady Jatin.
“Boss, are you all right?”
She nodded. Poor K.Kusum. Concerned about her invalid sister one moment. And dead the next!
This was life?
The police sirens sounded shrilly and the next hour was buzzing activity. K.Kusum's body was taken away before a stunned audience, and her cottage was cordoned off. The crowds were ordered to stay off the premises while the rest of the film unit was advised to stay on for a couple of days, in case the police needed to question anyone. An atmosphere of ominous anxiety settled on the merry-making group of people.
Sonia stepped forward. “Sub-Inspector Pawar?”
“Miss Samarth! What are you doing here?” The Sub-Inspector, a huge man, hefty in frame, turned towards the Investigator. A faint frown puckered his brow.
Sonia explained briefly.
“So you saw her first. Odd isn't it, this business?” Pawar frowned.
“Most definitely. If you don't mind, I'd like to help.”
“You mean—all that horoscope stuff? You must be joking. This is probably murder, Ma'am. Murder of a famous personality, even if she's just a Choreographer. I really wouldn't like anyone messing around here. Anyway, you need to be hired first to work with us.”
“I've hired her,” a deep voice spoke up.
Sonia turned astonished eyes on Chirag.
“I'm in charge of this setup and I want this terrible mess cleared up at once,” the film Director said. “I'm sorry for K.Kusum, but I can't keep my artists hanging out here endlessly. A lot of money is at stake. So I want as many forces working on this as possible.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your concern for all.” Sonia smiled at Chirag. Turning to Pawar, she raised her eyebrow. “I guess you have no objections now?”
The Sub-Inspector shrugged, grudging acknowledgement on his face. “As you wish, Miss Samarth.”
“Do you know what her last words were?” Sonia recalled. “‘
He can't read!
' Does that make any sense?”
She and Jatin were having breakfast in the cottage. They had stayed the night after all, Jatin in a room in the main hotel and Sonia in the cottage. Now as they finished a breakfast of
Upma
and coffee, Jatin glanced across the table at his boss.
“All night, I've been trying to figure out what she could've meant. I mean, if someone was dying . . . his or her last words would surely be—
Help, save me,
or even
I'm poisoned,
but
He can't read
?”
“Poisoned?” Jatin repeated, startled. “Is that what you think?”
Sonia nodded. “Positive. Cyanide—I'm quite sure of that. Same symptoms. And besides, she was fine when she left us. Something transpired in that cottage in those few moments she was inside. She came out instantly and died. It is definitely a case of poisoning.”
“But, Boss, murder? I mean, despite what the police said yesterday, I was still under the impression that this was a natural death. Murder, in a film unit?”
“You'd be surprised at the kind of jealousies and hatred that run through this industry.” She thought of Nimisha's words. “
The world of films is a quagmire.
”
“But who would want to kill a Choreographer? I mean, I can understand an actress wanting to kill another actress, or an actor or a director doing the same. But a Choreographer who seems to be no threat to anyone's ego?”
“Yes, it's worth thinking about, isn't it? Why would anyone wish to kill K.Kusum?” Sonia spoke almost to herself.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Oh, hello, Sub-Inspector Pawar. Any news?” Sonia welcomed him with a smile.
“The reports will come in soon. But we suspect murder, all right.”
“Cyanide poisoning?”
“So you guessed.”
“I don't need to check horoscopes for what my eyes can tell me,” Sonia replied sweetly.
Pawar flushed. “Look, I'm sorry. I spoke to Inspector Divekar of Pune and he said you're brilliant. I'm sorry I underestimated you.”
“Oh, forget it!” Sonia brushed off his apology. “Would you like to have some breakfast?”