‘Inshah Allah,’ said Aslam holding Raja Rao’s hand, ‘you will live long sir.’
‘I heard there was some problem at Musheerabad as well,’ said Raja Rao.
‘True, there were a couple of stabbings here and there,’ said Aslam in all emotion. ‘The saddest part of it all is that people go by rumors. It was said that the Musi turned red with the Muslim blood and that was enough to spur some of the Muslims in of our locality to goad others to join the jihad, for Islam was in danger. I wonder why the faithful fail to realize that Allah is all-powerful to protect Islam on His own. And being merciful, He wouldn’t approve killing people in the name of Islam. It’s sad that the thoughtless outrage of a few brings a bad name to our faith as a whole. If only the Muslim who stabbed you knows what a good human being you are, he wouldn’t have harmed your little finger.’
‘The communal jaundice colors our vision with the bigotry of our faith, to project hateful images of the people of other religions,’ said Raja Rao. ‘It pays to be more humane and less religious, as, the more religious one is, the more biased one would be.’
When Roopa was alone with Raja Rao, she told him that Sathyam was accommodated in that very room after his operation. At that, they reminisced how wretched they felt, unable to have a longing look at each other, owing to the patient’s presence. And having recounted the tale of her anxiety after his sudden departure, she told him about the ‘one line love letter’ of hers that she kept ready for him then. At that, a visibly moved Raja Rao vouched his eternal love for her.
However, as his recuperation at the GNH took longer than it was expected, Raja Rao turned apprehensive about the possible fallout from Roopa’s long hours at the hospital.
‘If you hang around here this long,’ he said to her that day, ‘Sathyam could become suspicious.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ she said coolly. ‘He himself asked me to assist you, as long as it takes. Why, when push comes to shove, won’t I walk over him to walk into your home? Don’t you know that Sandhya has kept the door open for me?’
‘What courage!’ he was amazed.
‘What’s love without that?’ she cooed in his ear.
‘How true,’ he said, ‘but sadly, it’s jealousy that spoils love.’
‘Jealousy is the device that denies man the divinity of love,’ she said contemplatively. ‘I wonder how our Sandhya is an exception! An angel, indeed she is.’