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Aakash chewed a cigarette butt intently as he frowned for the last time reading the will. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at his brother, Agastya, who was busy chatting with the doctor. He got up and made his way towards his brother, looking around the hospital for the millionth time that day. It was ever the same, as it was on other days, everyday.
Taking a stand next to his brother, he spat the cigarette out of his mouth. The doctor glanced at him a brief moment with disgust and continued talking. Aakash wasn’t interested. He wanted to talk to his brother.
“Can I have a word with my brother in private, doc?” Aakash said.
“I was just explaining the formalities to your brother. You can claim the body tomorrow, after the post mortem. Just a few more procedures and…”
“I ain’t interested in all this, doc. I just want a word with my brother, in private.”
“Very well,” said the doctor, looking at Agastya. “You know where to find me.”
Agastya dragged Aakash in the nearest empty ward.
“Couldn’t wait, could you?” Agastya snarled. “Aakash, I won’t let you have the journal.”
Aakash smiled viciously. He said, “You can take the money, I don’t want the money. Just let me have the journal.”
“Dad wanted me to have it. I won’t give it to you.”
“Listen, Agastya, you know me. I won’t stop bothering you until you let me have dad’s journal. I waited my entire life for it. I’ll do anything. Name it, I’ll do it.”
“Are you crazy? You want me to take the millions of your share for a stupid journal?”
“Yes. I’m doing well for myself. I’ll leave my grandchildren with twice the amount of money dad left us both. Give me the damn journal and take everything I inherited.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you why!”
“If you can’t tell me, I’m not going to give you the journal.”
“Fine! You were always dad’s favourite. And the one thing precious to him was that journal. The journal his grandfather gave to him. The journal he read to us from, about the part our great grandfather played in India’s freedom struggle. I knew you’d get it, but I desired it more than you did. While you would fall asleep as dad narrated those accounts, I dreamt about them with open eyes. Now let me have it, for I deserve it more than you ever did.”
Agastya looked at his brother’s eyes and flinched. There was rage and madness in them. He took the journal out of his back pocket and thrust it into Aakash’s hands as he got out of there.
Aakash only smiled as he thought about his deal with the historian. The journal would fetch him millions of rupees. And the best part was, he still had what he inherited.
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Taking a stand next to his brother, he spat the cigarette out of his mouth. The doctor glanced at him a brief moment with disgust and continued talking. Aakash wasn’t interested. He wanted to talk to his brother.
“Can I have a word with my brother in private, doc?” Aakash said.
“I was just explaining the formalities to your brother. You can claim the body tomorrow, after the post mortem. Just a few more procedures and…”
“I ain’t interested in all this, doc. I just want a word with my brother, in private.”
“Very well,” said the doctor, looking at Agastya. “You know where to find me.”
Agastya dragged Aakash in the nearest empty ward.
“Couldn’t wait, could you?” Agastya snarled. “Aakash, I won’t let you have the journal.”
Aakash smiled viciously. He said, “You can take the money, I don’t want the money. Just let me have the journal.”
“Dad wanted me to have it. I won’t give it to you.”
“Listen, Agastya, you know me. I won’t stop bothering you until you let me have dad’s journal. I waited my entire life for it. I’ll do anything. Name it, I’ll do it.”
“Are you crazy? You want me to take the millions of your share for a stupid journal?”
“Yes. I’m doing well for myself. I’ll leave my grandchildren with twice the amount of money dad left us both. Give me the damn journal and take everything I inherited.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you why!”
“If you can’t tell me, I’m not going to give you the journal.”
“Fine! You were always dad’s favourite. And the one thing precious to him was that journal. The journal his grandfather gave to him. The journal he read to us from, about the part our great grandfather played in India’s freedom struggle. I knew you’d get it, but I desired it more than you did. While you would fall asleep as dad narrated those accounts, I dreamt about them with open eyes. Now let me have it, for I deserve it more than you ever did.”
Agastya looked at his brother’s eyes and flinched. There was rage and madness in them. He took the journal out of his back pocket and thrust it into Aakash’s hands as he got out of there.
Aakash only smiled as he thought about his deal with the historian. The journal would fetch him millions of rupees. And the best part was, he still had what he inherited.
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