Family Tree

In 1969, in a remote village in Coorg, a man was stabbed to death in a barn. The crime was never solved. The killer was absconding, the police searched for clues and kept coming up to a dead end, and the case was closed. The dead man’s name was Shahabuddin. His death would have gone unnoticed, except for the fact that his granddaughter Ayesha in 2009, inherited among other things the diary maintained by him, along with all the other belongings left behind by her mother Arzoo on her untimely death. While going through her mother’s stuff, Ayesha also found a baby’s blanket with the letter P. K. initialed on it.

After performing all the last rites, Ayesha returned to Mysore where she lived. One day she decided to read the diary written in Urdu by her grandfather. What followed was a series of perplexing tales.

In 1947 at the at of 22, on the eve of the Indian Independence, Shahbuddin was working as a houseboy cum cook in a wealthy Coorg’s Kaverappa’s house. Shahabuddin’s wife Khatija, was expecting their first child. Khatija went into labour that night, and it lasted for around 14 hours. They had a baby girl, and the mother was overjoyed. She had miscarried many times before and had prayed that this time the baby would be healthy and safe. Shahabuddin took the child into his arms and walked out of the house to show the neighbours. Khatija went off to sleep, exhausted by the ordeal, and when she woke up, the child was safely bundled up, and asleep. The mother looked at the child and whispered into her ear “Arzoo…that is your name, as you are what I have prayed for.”

At the same time across the estate in the main house, Kamava the wife of Kaverappa, was giving birth to their third child. The child was a baby girl and immediately after the birth, the child was carried away by the midwife to get bathed. Kaverappa, who had been pacing up and down outside, immediately rushed into the room to be with his wife. He was a very happy man, he had wanted a daughter badly. He was going to call her Ganga, after the holiest of holy rivers in India.

Both children grew up under different circumstances, and both much loved by their parents. When they reached adulthood, both girls were married. Arzoo was married to a man in Mysore, who owned a bakery, and within the first couple of years, produced first a boy Armaan and then her daughter Ayesha. Then one day Arzoo, got a telegram from Coorg, her father had died. She rushed to Coorg and found her mother inconsolable, her father Shahbuddin had been murdered, stabbed to death. After performing the last rites, Arzoo returned to Mysore , but her mother refused to join her. She had found work as a cook in the main house, and was being looked after by Kaverappa . He had come for the funeral, and spared no expenses in looking after all her needs. He was meeting Arzoo for the first time, and spent some time asking her how she was doing, and if she was happy.

Life soon returned to normal, and many years passed, Ayesha grew up, into a beautiful girl, both her and her brother’s education was paid for by Kaverappa, and he made sure they received the best. Arzoo was very proud of how the grandchildren of a cook were now having good steady Government jobs. She would all her neighbours, that Ayesha and Armaan were like family to Mr. Kaverappa.

Ayesha finished reading her grandfather’s diary and had a long talk with her brother. They then boarded a bus for Coorg and went to meet Mr. Kaverappa. Now 86, he was ailing and in bed, but his mind was as sharp as ever. When they walked into his bedroom together, he told all others present to leave the room at once. He then beckoned to both to approach the bed, and then said “I am sorry, please forgive me. What your grandfather did to me was very wrong, and I know two wrongs do not make a right, but I was angry and upset, and I killed him.”

In his own words he narrated to them what transpired that faithful day in 1969. Shahbuddin had come to the barn to ask him for some money, Kaverappa refused. They got into an arguement, and had come to blows, Shahbuddin then picked up a stick and started hitting Kaverappa with it, who in turn dived and picked up a sickle lying on the ground. He stabbed Shahbuddin with it, who reeled back and hit the ground. He died soon after that. But before dying, he made a confession. Shahbuddin had switched his daughter with Kaverappa’s, on the night they were born, and had decided to come clean about it.

Kaverappa looked at Armaan and Ayesha and told them “ You are actually my grandchildren, and if you have it in you to forgive me, I could die a happy man.’
Its been a year since the meeting.

Ayesha and Armaan had just returned from Coorg after attending Kaverappa’s funeral. Kaverappa’s sons embraced their niece and nephew, and though they all knew it would be difficult, it was not impossible to form a new relationship.