Hi!
This one is a spin off circling the events in my recent SS Icarus…Those who haven’t read it yet, please do so before jumping on to this one as this contains a heavy dose of spoilers and the events here will make no sense if you have no idea what happened in Icarus.
As for those who do know, in Icarus, the side of Maheshwaris (Lakshya, Annapurna and Durga Prasad) is reduced to passing by paragraphs. In Calypso, I will try to catch up with them and many other dynamics, side plots I have left incomplete. 
This will be a set of One Shots. There will be four of them, telling different parts of the story. I hope you will find them enjoyable.

“We see our sins reflected everywhere: in the pallor of our intimates’ faces, in the scratching of tree branches against windows, in the strange movements of everyday objects. These may be messages from God or tricks of the eye, but in neither case are we permitted to ignore them.”
- Anna Godbersen- The Luxe

Even the sky, graced with the trillions of stars, adorned with rainbows, having the most incredible complexion of colors to its being can be tainted by the darkness of night, even the earth; the warmest and the most fertile, giving life to thousands of green plants and thus breathing life to millions of creatures can be turned in to a desert. Then what was so strange in the one single decision Annapurna Durga Prasad Maheshwari made, to choose her husband, the pillar of her family over the son who was causing harm to her perfect dreams and protective shields at the moment?
That was the logic her brain presented over the years, continuously whenever her heart bled with the agony of being separated from the child it loved to such depths and with guilt of betraying a trust so pure and a bond so fragile in a ruthless way. She had been evil; there was no justification for that.
Going through this turmoil inside her psyche, which has turned in to a battle ground for her brain and heart, the matriarch of the Maheshwaris wore the most placid and angelic of masks on her expressions. It was her youngest son’s wedding the day after and the entire mansion was lit with happy glow and a bubble of laughter and chatting. She had reined in her thoughts all day with that well placed smile, her heart in a tight grip that it would not wonder even mistakenly toward the darkest parts of her past.
The guests were leaving, the function was done and an eerie silence prevailed the house. Annapurna still stood on the empty yet elegant hall, a look of unfocused hope in her eyes, staring yet not seeing anything at the emptiness around her. She recalled a night, long before, but with a similar silence engulfing her. The storm had blown over and dulled in to weeping winds, Annapurna herself had been weeping, as if almost trying to wipe away her deeds or the marks left upon their lives with her tears.
‘Sanskar, don’t leave.’ She said following the tall figure that rushed down the stairs, his luggage already packed and his face hardened. ‘Please!’
At the center of the hall, then lost in semi darkness he stopped and turned to look at her. The look of adoration she was so used of seeing in his eyes extinguished, his eyes were dull, deep and burningly cold.
‘Don’t worry Mrs. Maheshwari I wouldn’t be taking your guilt with me.’ He said in his usual calm, light tone. Sometimes the lightest of strings cut deep and sharp across innocent skin, Annapurna winced at the verbal blow aimed at her soul. She did not know, her son, could be so venomous. He had forsaken their relation, acknowledged her crime and declared her punishment in that one well placed sentence.
‘How can you..’
He held out a land, gesturing for silence.
‘I am tired,’ he said in an indeed weary tone. ‘I had enough arguing for a day,’ he inhaled. ‘Or perhaps for an entire life time. Pardon me.’
With a jerk of head, a flash of those burning eyes, he was gone. The vacuum he left behind was suffocating her as Annapurna steered herself to the nearest sofa and sank in to it dejectedly. Trying to catch a breath in to her burning lungs and feeling her heart painfully crawl against her ribs. She had never needed anything as desperately as she needed her son then, or perhaps his simple forgiveness.
*
“A part of me was hoping someone would wake up and hear, so I wouldn't have to live with this lie anymore. But no one woke up and in the silence that followed, I understood the nature of my new curse: I was going to get away with it.”
- Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner
Lakshya almost stumbled inside. It was a wonder his feet carried him this far. His senses had surely given away, the moment he realized what he had done. A strange sense of fear and power surged through him, he wanted to escape, flee to the safest place he knew of; as all birds go, in fear of the falling night, back to the nest.
In this strange sense of submission he felt towards darkness now creeping in, the trance devil had evoked he walked towards his room, not noticing his mother was standing at the foot of the stairs, a look of utter terror upon her eyes. He went in to his room and entered the bathroom, claiming whatever was left of his sensible thoughts.
From the plain large mirror started a demonic version of his own self back at him. His eyes were wide, his hair muddled, his clothes ruined and stained unmistakably with brownish tints of Mehendi. He raised his hands, trying to control their shaking and examined them. They were covered in blood.
Taking a few faltering steps towards the wash basin, he let the water running and put his hand underneath the flowing coldness. The water that drained away was scarily red. He brushed his palms together, trying desperately to get rid of the stains, in the same time he wanted some of them to remain. He wanted someone to burgle in, someone to witness what he was doing. So that he would not have to carry the burden of this secret along.
Turning the tap off, he leaned against the cold wall of his washroom, still trying to calm his breathing. Then he heard the unmistakable noise of his bedroom door being pushed open.
‘Lakshya!’
It was his father. Lakshya could no longer feel his feet, a sudden chill had engulfed him. He called out once more, in a tone that could have raise hell. Knowing there was no escape to grasp, Lakshya dratted out of the washroom, his steps faltering again, his head bowed.
‘Look at me!’ Durga Prasad barked. His eyes snapped up, meeting the deathly cold gaze of his father. ‘What have you done?’
The events of the past hour, flashed in front of his eyes. Ragini’s call, the argument, the rage that over powered him, the knife and then…blood…all over, everywhere, the muffled scream of the dying man… He took a large breath.
‘Save me, please!’
The words sounded repulsive even for his own ears. What was he doing? It was indeed a coward speaking through his lips. But then, what he did was no bravery, he was just so insanely enraged. He had no idea what he was doing at the moment. Now, in the serene atmosphere of his room when he thought back to the incident the fear crippled him like a python, coiling itself around his conscious.
‘And Ragini?’ Durga Prasad asked again. ‘She has already told me about this, would she keep her silence? Would she choose you over her sister?’
Something almost as cold as ice dropped in to the bottom of his stomach. Swara. Swara was the target if he moved away now. Then again the memories of the past few days flashed across his mind, merged with the voice of his father.
‘I told you beforehand. That girl is not worth all what you were doing for her. Now see where she brought us, to an edge of a chasm! She had been deceiving you, playing with your heart and are you still thinking about saving her by accepting your crimes?’
He still said nothing.
‘Every one loves someone Lakshya, But no love is worth dying for. Think honestly, would you rather die for her, or live for those who love you?’
‘I…I can’t die!’
‘Then promise me, you will do whatever I ask you to. Promise me you want back away once I start the battle. Promise me with your life son, and I shall save you.’
‘Yes!’
Durga Prasad took a large breath of relief.
‘Then you will get married tomorrow, just as it was decided Not with Swara, but Ragini as your bride.’
‘But…’
‘We’re talking about a life, and lives aren’t cheap son.’
*
“There are two kinds of guilt: the kind that
drowns you until you’re useless, and the kind that fires your soul to purpose.”
- Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes
Annapurna who was listening at the door, her heart beating rather wildly, leaned against the wall as her husband rushed past her, without giving her a look. In side the room, she could hear Lakshya ruffling his things, getting ready to sleep. How could he even think of sleeping when something of this caliber had been done and decided?
With her usual quick steps she followed her husband and realized he was on phone with someone, discussion the case. Discussing how terrible was the incident, how a girl of such a reputed family would do such a heinous crime. His tone was of innocent surprise and complete disgust at what he heard, as if he was commenting on a story published in some news paper.
How could he? Was the man as shallow as her son had once accused him of being?
It was as if the sun overshadowed by the moon is not visible to earth, she had been oblivious to this side of the man she shared her life with. He was selfish to an extent where it could be deemed demonic. He would do anything to save that treasured son of his while another’s completely innocent child would be sacrificed. He would surely point out some greater good in this. That was one thing she knew for sure.
At the moment her conscious was right. Her conscious was just. But if she discusses this with her husband, he would twist her opinion in a way that she herself would find something justifiable in his course of action. She would even stand against those who would challenge him, she would fight for him. Such was her curse, she could not see the blackness behind her mirror as she admired the vivid reflections it made.
She had to take a decision, before devotion takes over wisdom. Annapurna went back to her room, feeling something similar to what her son felt a moment before. Fear and power surging through her. Fear at finally turning her sword against her own master, fear of being labeled as a traitor and power of knowing she was doing the right thing, power of knowing she would not let a wrong happen.
She dialed an old friend, who would know how and when to reach where she wanted to send the message.
Once the conversation was done and the favor extracted, Annapurna had never felt more lighter. She went to her dressing table and smiled with her reflection. Not the way she rained her guilt in, but in genuine happiness. For all these years her son had been right, he was on the right path towards light.
But her happiness had a far more selfish reason as well.
If her friend manages to accomplish his mission, she would be seeing her son. He would have to return home.
*
Do share your thoughts.
Thanks for reading.