Srinivas was representing Vikram Jain. Karishma’s mother had died. Her father, in his will, had left some property and money to her mother, which after her death was to go to Karishma or her children. Karishma was dead, and there were no children. Vikram was claiming that it should come to her legal heir, which was her husband. Her brother and cousins believed that property should go back to them. And a legal battle was on. Srinivas had been at Karishma’s home to try and persuade her family to give up.

The half-uttered word “Karish…” lingered in his mind. Could she mean Karishma? Who else could it be? But… He decided to find out more about the girl. He made a call to a private detective, whose service he often used to help his clients. It didn’t take him to long to find out where she had come from and who her father was.

—

“Mr. Jain. Did you dead wife have anything to do with Dharmshala?” he asked his client.

Vikram was startled, “Dharmshala? Why?”

“Just answer me.”

“She was in Dharmshala when she died.”

“Why?”

“Some astrologer nonsense. Why are you asking though?”

“How did she die?”

“Some poisonous insect had stung her.”

“Are you sure she did not die in childbirth?”

“Childbirth? What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Was she alone?”

“No. Our old maid – Geeta – was with her.”

“Can I speak to her?”

“She is too old and infirm now. Still stays in our house, but has practically lost her mind. But what exactly are you getting at? She had died childless.”

“I’m not so sure of that. There is this girl from Dharmshala I met…” he showed him the pictures of Smriti that his detective had taken.

Vikram was disconcerted. Even after all these years, he could not miss the striking similarities in Smriti’s and Karishma’s features.

“What happened, Mr. Jain?”

“She looks so much like her… like Karishma, I mean. You said she is from Dharmshala?”

“So, my conjecture could be right.”

“It’s quite nonsensical. How can it be her child? She died in Dharmshala…”

“I agree that there might be things we do not know. It might all even be a coincidence. It might be that she is your wife’s child, but not yours…”

“Impossible,” his egoistic self won’t let him admit something like that.

“There are more queer things I have seen in my profession, Mr. Jain. My intention is only to help you with the case, and nothing else. Neither to malign, nor to glorify you family’s prestige. What will be of interest to you is that I met her outside Guptas’ residence. And she said that her mother had grown up in that house. That’s why she had come there. I asked her mother’s name. She said Karish… But Mou took her away before she could complete.”

“Mou?”

“Mou Bhattacharya. She is the editor of New India. I have known her for quite some time. Keeps meeting me for work.”

“Editor? As in she has been a journalist?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“If I remember correctly, Karishma had a journalist friend by that name.”

“Hmm,” Srinivas was even more interested now, “If she is not your child, then we don’t want to waste time on her. But if she is yours, and still a minor, she can be your jackpot.”

“How will we find out?”

“Everything costs money. I did a little digging around at my expense, but…”

“Don’t worry about that. Whether or not it helps with the case, this mystery is worth solving.”

“We will have to get a DNA test done.”

“How will you get her sample?”

“Don’t worry.”

Vikram asked his mother to get some information out from Geeta about their stay in Dharmshala. But the woman would not say anything coherent. They were successful with their plan of DNA test however. With a little snooping around, they had a sample of Samriti’s hair the very next day. Srinivas’ detective managed to get it while she was shopping with Mou. The DNA test was rushed and the result surprised and shocked the Jain family.

“So, she had planned all this? She knew it was a girl, went away to Dharmshala and gave away the baby? Possibly died in childbirth? And what was Geeta doing? Was she also involved in the conspiracy?” They all wondered.

“We can’t know all that unless we find her adoptive father, who is not here,” Srinivas said, “But his absence is a good thing. Right now here is how things stand. The girl would not be eighteen. So, she is Mr. Jain’s daughter and a minor. She was given away without your knowledge. You can claim her guardianship, and get the property that belongs to her and…”

—

“Hi Smriti,” Srinivas found her in a park near Mou’s house. Mou was still at work; so she was wandering there alone. Used to the cool weather, pollution-free environment and vast empty spaces in Dharmshala, she was feeling suffocated in Kolkata. She was almost regretting extending her stay by two weeks. She hadn’t been able to find out anything about her real family. The city was so big and confusing that she didn’t even know how to go back to her mother’s house.

She didn’t recognize Srinivas at first and looked alarmed at being addressed by him.

“Looks like you have forgotten. I am Mou’s friend. Srinivas, the lawyer. We met near your mother’s house.”

“Oh! Hi,” she stepped back increasing the distance between them, recalling what Mou had told her about him.

“I think you came away from there. Why didn’t you meet your mother’s family?”

“They don’t stay there.”

“Why? Unless I am mistaken, wasn’t your mother Karishma?”

“How… how do you know?”

“I know your entire family well. And your mother’s family very much stays in that house. Were you told otherwise?”

Smriti was stunned. Srinivas liked the effect his information produced. This was just what he had hoped for.

“If that is the case, I think you do not know about your real father at all. Do you even know that your father stays in Kolkata and the man you call your father is not really…”

“You know him too? He is alive?”

“I know him very well and he is alive and healthy. And I am very happy that I will carry the good news to him that his daughter has been found. They were so anxious for you. They didn’t know where your mother had eloped with you, or who her lover was.”

—

To be continued