Page 27 of The Checkmate

“The moment I met my son, Vishnu, I knew I wanted him to grow up as my own, as a Walia. But I also understood that this decision would have severe consequences, both personally and professionally. So, in the end, I became selfish, Meher. Every moment that I hesitated to acknowledge Vishnu as my son before the world cast me in the light of a bad father. But I was ready to be seen that way rather than risk damaging my career. All I continued to do was assume his responsibility from a distance without truly integrating him into my life or our family.”

Dad takes a moment to wipe his tears, even as my own have run dry. It’s hard for me to accept that my father was so selfish in the past. I can understand why he prioritised my mother and their marriage, but it’s terribly unfair that Vishnu was neglected in all of this.

“When Vishnu turned twelve, Vandita passed away from brain cancer, and I moved Vishnu and his grandmother to Dehradun for his further education. You were only five years old at the time. One day, your mother, Meera, found the bills of school fees I had been paying for Vishnu’s education in Dehradun. When she confronted me, I had to confess about Vishnu. She was furious with me for hiding him for so long. Just as I mentioned earlier, she ordered me to bring Vishnu back into the family and publicly accept him as my son. This was the same argument that we had the night you overheard us.”

His hands tremble as he rubs his palms over his face before gazing toward me.

“You know what happened after that. Meera... Meera fell down the stairs, and...and she left us forever.”

I sob, looking down, revisiting the painful memory of my mother’s death. Dad gently strokes my back as I regain my composure to continue listening.

“After Meera passed away, I completely fell apart. I felt like a part of me had died with her. I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge Vishnu as my son, and as time passed, it became harder and harder to tell you, my family and the world about him. My political career was taking off, and I became so consumed by it that I didn’t have the courage to reveal Vishnu’s true identity. But I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, so I offered him a job as my bodyguard when he finished school and brought him to live in this house.”

“In this house?” I interrupt with a snap in my voice. “No, Dad. You didn’t bring him home; you settled him in the servant’s quarters for more than a decade. And he’s still living there without a single complaint. Vishnu, a son of the Walias, your own blood is still living in the servant’s quarters of his own family. How could you let that happen? How could you turn a blind eye to everything he has endured, how much he has sacrificed for you and this family? How could you remain oblivious, Dad?”

Dad stands there, speechless, and it is unclear whether he’s still wrestling with these thoughts or not. I wipe my tears and rise to my feet.

“My stance remains the same, Dad. You were not fair in the past. Mom tried to do the right thing, but she couldn’t live to see it through. But I’m here now, and I won’t tolerate any more injustice towards Vishnu. He doesn’t deserve this. You may love him, but it’s time to show that love and prove to him that he matters to you as much as your political career and as much as I do. It’s not just about the life you’ve worked so hard to build.”

Dad looks downward, feeling disheartened.

“Just moments ago, you said that every delay in acknowledging this fact publicly has made you a sinner and a bad father. Don’t prolong this any further, Dad. You’ve already lost Vandita aunty and Mom. If you don’t act on this soon, I promise you’ll lose me and Vishnu too.”

Dad’s eyes widen with shock as he gazes at me. Before he has a chance to respond, I quickly leave the room. Although I have heard his version of the past, I’m far from convinced by the choices he has made. If he doesn’t rectify his actions this time, he will suffer significant losses.

CHAPTER 8

MEHER

Standing on the terrace, I look up at the night sky, its vastness mirroring the tumult of emotions swirling within me. The revelation of Dad’s past, entwined with my half-brother Vishnu’s life, weighs heavily on my heart. His actions, or rather his lack of action, has upset me deeply. Dad’s inability to acknowledge Vishnu publicly and make amends for the past is a hugely disappointing. As I gaze at the stars above, I can’t help but wonder if Dad will ever find the courage to make things right.

As I reminisce the past, I recall my father mentioning that Vishnu had continued his studies in Dehradun after Vandita aunty passed away. It suddenly strikes me that my own time in Dehradun, where I was sent to a boarding school at the age of seven, coincided with Vishnu’s stay in the same town. But we never met there. While he was completing his education, I was studying, completely oblivious to his existence, even though he was just a stone’s throw away.

Now I know that the reason my father chose Dehradun for my schooling was not only for my academic growth but also to be closer to Vishnu. Perhaps, when my father came to visit me in Dehradun, he also spent time with Vishnu, nurturing the bond he shared with his hidden son.

I’m transported back to that day when I was just fifteen years old. It was during one of my summer vacations at home in Mumbai, when Dad introduced me to Vishnu as his new bodyguard. At the time, I didn’t fully understand the intricacies of their relationship, but looking back, it all makes sense now.

I jumped out of the car as it parked at the Walia House, excitement bubbling within me. My voice echoed through the hallway as I called for Dad.

“Dad! I’m home!” I kept shouting as I hurried into the living room. A servant informed me that he was in a meeting in the guest room. Without hesitation, I made a beeline for the guest room, eager to see him. But just as I reached for the doorknob, someone yanked me back.

As my initial anger flared up, I spun around to confront my unexpected assailant. Standing before me was a tall, muscular man with dark, intense eyes.

“You cannot go inside. He is in a meeting,” he spoke in a commanding tone.

I frowned, disbelief written across my face. “Do you even know who you’re stopping? I’m Meher Walia, Pratap Walia’s daughter.”

“And I am Vishnu, Pratap Walia’s... his bodyguard.” The man hesitated briefly, seemingly at a loss for words, then cleared his throat.

“Bodyguard?” I stepped back and scrutinised him from head to toe. “What makes you think you can protect my dad? Do you have any experience? Have you worked for celebrities or other politicians? Do you have recommendations?” I was ready to bombard him with more questions, but he cut me off.

“Even if I had recommendations, I’m not answerable to you. If your father has appointed me, he must have done his homework and found me eligible. That’s enough for you to rest assured that I can protect him.”

I scrunched my brows, unimpressed. “A bodyguard with an attitude, huh?” I couldn’t help but mock and was about to ask more questions.

However, before I could continue, my father emerged from the room, signalling the end of his meeting.

The moment I saw him, I rushed over and enveloped him in a tight hug. He hugged me back warmly.

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