As the import of the tragedy from her angle began to sink in his imagination, he lamented even more at the unfortunate end to her life. ‘Why had she to pay for my troubled psyche?’ he thought in the hell of his cell. ‘Was it her fault that she happened to be a look-alike of a sick man’s mother? For all I know, her nature could juxtapose mom’s character. How ironical life is, in that it makes one pay for the mistakes of others! Why haven’t judicial errors sent many an innocent to the gallows? Oh, how many might have ended up in the grave owing to murder by mistaken identity! Well, am I not paying for the sins of my mom.’

‘But, how am I to know why she did what she did,’ he thought as he began to experience a new empathy for his mother. ‘What was worse, she scandalized herself in the process. How naive of me to have condemned her as if I were an infallible judge! Haven’t I punished her and myself as well, perhaps, her more than all? If not for me, her dirty linen would never have come for a quick wash in the public. And my poor father has to endure the ignominy and suffer in silence. What a loss of face for both of them! After all that eminence that is. How they would be braving it out!’

‘What did I gain by raping all those!’ he continued as his focus shifted on to those whom he had wronged. Transient release and enduring revenge, that’s what I got, isn’t it? But then, the release was sullied by fear, and the revenge remained flawed, after all. As for the sex itself, it was more of a mechanical motion than even a physical union, not to speak of emotional integration. Where was the feeling of sensual intimacy that I had seen those guys experience in mom’s lovemaking? Well, my perverse psyche led me astray, only to cause my ruin in the end! And how many women have I traumatized, by the way? Wonder, how did I strangle the very woman whom I used for my sexual gratification? Not even animals are known to kill their mates, do they? Didn’t I turn worse than a beast then?’

‘Didn’t it all begin with my incestuous desire for mom, only to end up with blood on my hands?’ he continued his contemplation. ‘Won’t Shanti’s death haunt my soul forever? Would the world ever let me forget my past! What about being normal in the company of women? Is it left in me to fall in love, much less voice it again? Who would wed me after all this? Even otherwise, would I be able to lead a normal married life? Given my troubled psyche, would that be possible even if my wife were to be an understanding woman? Would my burden of guilt let me ever erect for all that? Do I feel gripped of late? Oh no! Would Shanti’s curse keep me useless all my life?’