Part 23: Welcome Back, Kasturi

Later in the evening, Kasturi sat by the window, staring out at the sprawling cityscape. The warm glow of the evening sun bathed the room, but she felt no warmth—only the weight of a dilemma that had been gnawing at her ever since her boss had suggested the trip to Delhi.

“Relive the past?” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning. It sounded simple, almost poetic. But the reality was far from it.

Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup, now cold. Memories flooded back, unbidden and relentless. She thought of Meena—her laughter, her wide-eyed wonder, the secrets they shared.

And then, the memory of that terrible day. The day Kasturi had left. She felt a deep gnawing guilt for everything she had stopped doing—for ceasing to write, for no longer asking about Meena, and most of all, for leaving.

Her young, impressionable mind had long convinced her that leaving had been her greatest mistake. Leaving Meena amid riots, in the chaos of a world unravelling, was something she could never forgive herself for.

Even though deep down, she knew the circumstances had been far beyond her control, the burden of her absence weighed heavily on her. It wasn’t just about leaving; it was about the silence that followed—the unspoken words, the unanswered questions, and the void she had left.

Could she face Meena after twenty years?

Her rational mind urged her to stay away. What good could come of reopening old wounds? She had rebuilt her life in the States, carving out a space where those haunting memories didn’t dare intrude. Why disturb the peace she had painstakingly constructed?

But then, there was the guilt that shadowed her every achievement, every smile, and every fleeting moment of joy.

Her boss’s voice echoed in her mind, clear and persuasive. “It’s a great opportunity, Kasturi. The project needs someone like you. And it’s a chance to reconnect with your roots.”

Reconnect with her roots. The words felt heavy with meaning. Was it about the project or about confronting the part of herself she had buried?

The night dragged on, her mind a battlefield of “should I?” and “shouldn’t I?” Every possible outcome played out in her head—a reunion filled with awkward silences, or worse, rejection. But also, maybe, just maybe, forgiveness.

As the clock struck midnight, she felt a shift. Something deep within her, almost imperceptible, stirred. She made her up her mind and then went on to sleep like a child after so long.

The next morning, she picked up her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialled her boss:

“I’ve thought about it. I’ll take the project. Please confirm my travel plans.”

For the first time in years, the tight knot of guilt in her chest loosened, if only a little. She wasn’t sure what she’d find in India—closure, reconciliation, or more questions. But she knew one thing for certain.

It was time to face the past.

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The flight to Delhi was long but uneventful. Kasturi leaned back in her seat, the hum of the plane’s engines soothing her nerves. She had spent the past few days convincing herself that this was just another project—another opportunity to do good work. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

When the plane touched down in Delhi, Kasturi’s heart raced. The city was a blur of activity, a sensory overload of sounds, sights, and smells. But she wasn’t staying here—not yet. She had booked a connecting flight to Bhubaneshwar, a detour she hadn’t mentioned to anyone at the NGO.

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In Bhubaneshwar, Kasturi checked into a modest hotel. She dropped her bags, showered, and flopped onto the bed, exhausted but restless.

Her mind was racing. Tomorrow, she would visit Khurda. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find—familiar faces, old haunts, a sense of closure? But she knew one thing for certain: she had to go.

As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Kasturi thought about Meena. Was she still in Khurda? Had life been kind to her? Would she even want to see Kasturi after all these years?

These questions swirled in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

Kasturi’s journey was only beginning, and she had no idea where it would lead. But for the first time in years, she felt ready to face the past.

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