Excerpt: The Menon Investigation

‘How long the wait?’ she said.

Dr. Ramirez took note of his colleague’s gaze. ‘Planning on changing your sexual orientation?’

‘Oh yes, he’s handsome all right. But something about him. Something else.’

‘What?’

He didn’t say. The voice outside cried, ‘Token number 269.’

They did the tests and the scan at Ashwini Lab at Chintha Valappu, a busy junction behind the District Jail, and they were told to collect the results later. They lunched at a restaurant opposite the KRSTC bus station, where she reminded him again to take her to the beach to se the sea. It was almost four by then and she was tired but persistent. They left for the beach. They crossed the railway flyover and rode through the Red Cross Road. She closed her eyes.

She said, ‘My eyes will remain closed until I have the sea in my eyes. Touchable and close.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that’s how my mother saw the sea when she came here once long ago. She used to say, You don’t see the sea first. You hear the sea before you see it. She said she closed her eyes as soon as she heard the sea and didn’t open her eyes until the sea wetted her feet.’

‘That’s so true.’

‘I already hear it.’

Her face lit up in nervous anticipation. He parked the jeep in front of the radio station. The sea reminded him of that early morning eight years ago in a flash. He could see the streetlights and he could hear the gunshots and he could feel Kannan’s hot blood on his skin.

‘Shyamu.’

Her eyes were closed still and he guided her, hand in hand, step by slow step, through the busy promenade, past the stone benches and granite sculptures, to the edge of the wall the waves were lashing against. When she opened the lids, the sea was in her eyes, close and blue and vast. Her eyes sparkled in childish amazement, in mirth her being couldn’t contain. She laughed aloud for once in happiness.

(Page 77-78)

Excerpted with permission from The Menon Investigation by Saharu Nusaiba Kannanari published by Penguin Random House India 2025.