The Secret Well

 

Arun stood on the roof top looking eastwards as the sun rose streaking the hazy horizons in shades of pink that would soon fade to a dull grey. Another day filled with decisions that crowded his mind but refused to be resolved. Below him the lane wound its way to the river. The houses on either side slumbered in their past glory, high ceilings held up by ornate pillars while the exteriors were crumbled facades of brickwork and paint bleached by age and disrepair. The green shuttered windows hid the damp, mottled walls, the flaking frescoes and the marbled columns that had once brazenly flaunted the wealth of the merchants who had flourished under the patronage of the British overlords.

 Builders and real estate agents looked lovingly at what should be termed as prime property that were often entangled in the issues of a myriad inheritors. Deals were difficult to finalize as the legal knots were impossibly knotted.  Also the width of the lane barely allowed two small cars to pass one another.  Nobody knew if and when these ruins would be completely demolished allowing land hungry builders to lay their stake to erect sky piercing needles of steel and glass. Unless fortune smiled and allowed their destruction, these houses would stand until their very walls were turned to a moldering pile of bricks

Arun’s gaze turned downwards as the faint cries of the morning broke the earlier silence. Tea stalls had opened their shutters, coal fires were burning and kettles were boiling. Small groups of porters and shop assistants were catching up with the news while waiting for the tiny cups of sweet milky brew. Vegetable vendors were hawking their wares, cycles were steering a safe passage through stray dogs and mothers had turned out their impatient youngsters to play in the empty doorway corners.

Arun drew a deep breath, once his forefathers were known for their opulence and money but nothing much remained to sustain the later generations. Internecine legal battles among the many owners prevented any settlement and the building was subdivided until each floor was like a rabbit’s warren.   

Neither Arun’s grandfather nor father had been able to make a decent living and the family had descended into genteel poverty. Every object that was saleable whether it was the marble basin of a defunct fountain or curios were often flogged at discounted prices.  

Arun had pinned his hopes on his only son Kieran to change the family fortunes but he wasn’t too optimistic.

Handing the morning cup of tea, Arun’s wife Ava lowered her voice, “Kieran wanted to know if we could pay the fees for his drama classes.”

“Cash, everybody wants it and it doesn’t fall from the heavens. It’s time that Kieran thought about earning rather than spending.”

 Previous experience had taught Ava that Arun’s mood underwent a rapid change with any mention of money. Caught between father and son, Ava decided it would be in everyone’s interest to get an early decision.

Arun was working himself up to deliver an oft repeated lecture when he started a coughing fit. Fearing that it was the forerunner of an asthma attack that would stall any decision making, Ava took off, “When our daughter’s wedding was fixed, I didn’t hesitate to not only pawn but sell most of my personal jewelry. I can’t conjure up money from nothing so…..”

Her words were cut short by Arun’s paroxysm of coughing of gasping and wheezing, “Nor have I.”

 Ava wasn’t deterred, “We have the country home by the riverside and it belongs only to you.”

“No. No. If we sell that property there will be absolutely nothing left to fall back in times of dire need.”

“I’ve been hearing rumors. Your cousin’s wife mentioned that somebody had seen you talking to men who have been sizing up houses in the neighborhood. Nobody can sell this house. We’ll be buried under the rubble before all of us can arrive at a semblance of an agreement. It is easy to guess that it must be the River Villa.”

Arun’s face turned an awful purple while his irritation grew by degrees. The tentacles of greed envy and lack of money held the entire family in its extended grip. Nothing remained a secret for long and once the information found its way through the cracks and crevices of the building it assumed a life of its own.

 Until some headway was made Arun wanted to fend off his family who at the slightest prospect of cash would freely open their purses and spend.

“I had some preliminary discussions with a group that want to build a hotel and make it a prestigious address for weddings and other events. The deal is complicated and I will have to consult a reputed law firm to help me negotiate. Unless some progress was in sight I didn’t think it wise to let it be known.

Since the matter was no longer a secret Arun decided that he would involve his son. “Let Kieran go and check on the caretaker and see that the driveway and portico have been swept and that no garbage is heaped up near the gates. The property should look presentable so that we can demand a good price.”

Unknown to his father, Kieran was no stranger to the news of the house being put up for sale.  While modeling for some agencies he had come in to contact with some advertising companies.  This had provided him with the opportunity to rent out the grounds and earn some money on the side. The dilapidated house on the riverside provided a picturesque backdrop for photo shoots. He paid the caretaker some money too so that Arun wouldn’t know about this private arrangement. It was through Monti, the caretaker that he had heard about a deal that might be in the offing.

Kieran’s visits had impressed the caretaker’s daughter Nisha who was at first impressed by the cameras and lights and gradually believed that she could also become a part of the fabled world of fashion and television.  Nisha was generous in her favors towards Kieran hoping that he would open the doors to enter the halls of fame and fashion.

It was late afternoon when Kieran arrived at the River House and went in search of Monti, who as usual was somewhere else trying to earn that extra bit. It was Nisha who came out to meet Kieran and she was in a foul mood. She refused to fall in with Kieran’s wishes and refused to indulge him any further unless he could fix an appointment for her. Kieran was in no position to offer anybody anything though he had managed to string along Nisha.

 Nisha refused to be appeased unlike other days when a kiss and a snuggle would do the trick.  They got in to a slanging match and Kieran yanked at her long plait that ended up in both of them chasing one another until they had reached the densely overgrown grounds on the edge of the river. While trying to get the better of Nisha, Kieran stumbled over a ledge of broken brickwork that was concealed under a growth of thorny bushes.  One minute he was there and the next he was screaming, “Pull me up I am sliding down a dark hole.  I’m going down. Get somebody before it is too late.”

Nisha bent over nervously and all that she could see was a yawning pit, its walls covered with moss and still black waters that reflected nothing. She shuddered and drew back as she remembered that it was the cursed well of the maidens. The well water was thought to be poisonous and lethal. Young girls who had been used and abused for pleasure by the rich and decadent landlords were often thrown into this well and conveniently forgotten.

Nisha looked carefully to see if there were any incriminating signs. Nothing was visible except for some trampled bushes that would soon look scraggly and overgrown. Kieran’s body would rot and gradually the remains would sink in to the riverbed. Hopefully nobody had noticed his arrival and his absence wouldn’t be traced back to the River Villa.

All her dreams about becoming famous were stalled but Nisha believed that one day her chance would come. It was now important to check that there were no signs of Kieran’s visit.  She believed that she wasn’t to blame and why should her life be complicated by mentioning Kieran’s accidental end. It wouldn’t be easy but if she wanted to be an actress she must learn to dissemble. Someday it might haunt her but to Nisha’s credit she learned to act the role she had chosen to play so that nobody would ever know what happened to Kieran.