He Came to Stay - 2. Chapter 2

TWO
when Diya entered my drawing room with a large packet in her hands Avijit and I myself were playing a BANDISH of PURIYA-DHANASHREE on violin. I knew it must be some gift as she has just returned from abroad. We immediately stopped playing. Keeping the instrument aside I went ahead to receive her that visibly made her embarrassed. In a subdued voice she said, ‘I liked the tune. Why do you stop?’ Such formal questions do not expect any reply. Instead I asked, ‘when did you return from Berlin?’
‘Last evening’ she murmured.
--Did you submit your dissertation?
--Yes, the presentation is also over.
Well, then we can call you ‘Dr. Diya Roychoudhury’ now!
She frowned, ‘Come on Sumanda! Please don’t pull my legs. This is for you.’ She handed over the packet in her hand over to me. Showing much eagerness I opened it. It was a large Swiss chocolate. I had always been a gym freak and was extremely health-conscious. I don’t take chocolates. Still I said, ‘uuuummmm yummy…a nice gift indeed. This shows that you did not forget me in that foreign land.’ ‘How can I forget you!’ with much confidence in her voice she said compelling me to look at her eyes, which were fixed at nowhere. I asked, ‘tea or coffee?’
--I have just had a cup of tea before coming.
--I know the modern women are much figure conscious. Still another cup won’t add pounds to your 36-25-36.
--May I have some cold drinks?
--Only LASSI.
--Okay!

A little later I returned with three glasses of LASSI. ‘Where is Avijit?’ I asked Diya.
--He left, was saying that he had an appointment.
I didn’t get surprised at this seemingly unusual behavior of the guy. Perhaps he thinks that I am engaged with Diya. We often chat online and when she returns home she calls me in and talks for hours over the telephone. Perhaps, he thinks that we are having a affair, which is obviously not true.

The thought of Avijit’s sudden departure was still in my mind. I silently passed a glass of LASSI to Diya. She broke the silence, ‘Sumanda now you should get married. Do you call this a life?’
I didn’t answer. She continued, ‘Nobody is there to look after you. Sometimes it worries me.’
--Ishan is there. He can take care of me very well.
--But he will not be there for your entire life. Someday he will leave after completing his studies. Then who will be there beside you.

Diya was hardly imparting me with a new bit of information. I knew it all along that Ishan would leave someday. Still it hit my mind like a thunderbolt as if I heard some shocking news for the first time. I tried to change the topic, ‘why don’t you get married?’
--My parents are already worried about my marriage. They ask me repeatedly if I have a boyfriend.
--And what is your opinion?
--I have not yet decided.
--Not decided what?
She didn’t reply, just picked up her cardigan and said, ‘well, Sumanda it is already 8.30. I got to go.’
--Wait! Give me five minutes time, I’ll accompany you.
--Don’t worry; I have my driver with me.

In the meantime Ishan entered helped by three of his friends. Apparently he had a leg injury. ‘Why didn’t you ring me up?’ I complained.
--Check out your mobile phone. I tried to inform you several times. But you didn’t pick up your phone.
Yes, now I remember; my phone was in the silent mode. When I sit with Avijit with violin I always keep my mobile in the silent mode. After giving a brief account of how he got the injury during a match his friends left. I looked at Diya helplessly. She said, ‘Should I send a doc., or should I stay back?’ Ishan was lying on his back on the sofa. He raised his head and said, ‘Not to worry Diyadi, I’m okay!’

Diya bade a good bye to us and left. The local doctor had given Ishan only painkillers and spray for muscle pain. He was not seriously injured, though he needed dressing for scratches here and there in his left leg. I asked him to take a shower. He looked helplessly at me. I took him to the bathroom, undressed him to his underwear and setting the shower on I gave him a stool to sit on. I handed him over the shower gel. His white underwear became transparent in the water. I could see through it the turf of black hair on his pubis and the swelling penis, which I am sure, was uncut. A dint of strange intoxicating feeling was running through my veins. I started rubbing his back, and then gently cleaned off his injured leg. In that cold night of mid-February I was already having perspiration. The little drops of sweat on my forehead didn’t escape his keen eyes. He asked, ‘Dada, are you okay?’ I quickly tried to manage the situation saying, ‘Perhaps, my blood pressure has gone up. I forgot to take my medicine today.’ ‘Why don’t you take care of yourself Dada!’ he complained. I put the shower off and throwing the towel to him I set off towards my room when he cried, ‘Dada!’

Looking behind I found that he was on the floor groaning in pain. I helped him stand up, wiped off the dripping water of his hair and his body. Then setting the towel around his waist I was hesitating. Should I help him removing his underwear? He was standing with my help by putting his right arm around my neck. He understood my hesitation. With his left hand he partly removed his underwear. He couldn’t lean forward. With shivering fingers I helped him out, put the underwear in the bucket, and led him to the bedroom. I took out his shorts from the wardrobe when he was standing with support of the doorframe. As I was helping him wear his shorts, his towel dropped. He was stark naked before my eyes. His penis was semi-erect. The throbbing vein on it was clearly visible. The dickhead seems to be eager to pop out of the foreskin. I was dying to hold that beautiful tool and help the pink dickhead get out of the closure. Perhaps the towel dropped just accidentally or might it be that I did intentionally do it! I don’t know. I was mesmerized looking at that half flaccid pendulum and a huge ball lurking behind it. I wanted to take the fragrance of the blooming bud at the end of the pendulum, but at the end somehow been able to control myself. Silently dressing him up I laid him on the bed and went to the kitchen to bring his dinner. He took very little and went to sleep. There was little conversation during the dinner. When I was dressing his wounds he said, ‘It’s okay! I’m feeling sleepy.’ He went to bed before me and was fast asleep when I retired. He had taken sedative medicine and was tired also, or was he trying to avoid me!

Three days later after getting recovered a bit he went home to see his mother but didn’t return to stay with me again. Instead he started staying in his college hostel as a guest with one of his friends.