The Pen Name

I am Sanjay, age 45. I am writing this because everything is going awkward now days. It’s turmoil phase of my life.

We are three children to our parents. Elder sister Surekha, me and younger brother Shyam. Due to a small fight during our teenage time, we became separate. After marriage, we went both physically and mentally far apart (parents came with me). I never tried to know what they were doing. Time rolled. My parents passed away 5 years ago. The funeral was the last time I saw my siblings. Things were ‘normal’ without their memory.

However, a novel trilogy released last year, written by Mr.Black was agitating me. First novel dealt with an edge teenager with his mother going on a quest in search of the father who disappeared suddenly. The novels ends as he finds his father dead. He discovers that he has a half-sister for whom dad died protecting. Second novel is same story, but in the half-sister’s perspective. It answers many questions, which left unanswered in first book. Though suspense and thrilling was main theme of these books, I liked the sensual part, which portrayed feelings of loss authentically. Third book was not thriller. It was conclusion to previous two part, as the girl trying to become the member of the family and succeeds in it. Nevertheless, it had too many cute moments. Third book became my favourite one.

It all started here. I know, I have a sister and a brother, but still I could not tolerate them. Whereas, in this trilogy, he lives happily with his half-sister even though he did not know he had one. Guilty started to attack me. I felt that I have to go in search of my siblings. However, I refused to act. Just kept my mouth shut and limbs tied. Sleep goddess denied her blessings over me. My wife and children asked me whether I have any problem. I said ‘no’.

As the escape from the reality, I decided to meet the author. However, there was nothing about him in any book. No photo, address, real name. I went to publication office. The manager of that publication happened to be my father’s friend. When I asked the address, he smiled and gave me the slip. A strange smile. I followed the address and found the home. I pressed calling bell. When the door opened, I found myself going numb. It was my brother. I understood why the manager gave that smile. ‘Shyam’ means ‘Black’ in Sanskrit.