He Came to Stay - 4. Chapter 4

FOUR
The orchard out of my doorsteps bloomed with new yellow marigold. Bees gathered from all corners to collect nectar for their larva. Right from the dawn a cuckoo was shouting from some unidentifiable branches of the newly blossomed mango tree. I can remember that I read in some nursery rhymes the poet’s overwhelming praise of cuckoo’s voice; can’t remember who was the poet, still if I could get hold of him I would ask him to spend an entire day at my place and even after that he would not disown that rhyme, I would quit writing for the rest of my life. While I was loitering in my corridor I my mind was wandering elsewhere. The maid appeared with two cups of coffee. Diya was reading the morning newspaper in the adjacent drawing-room oblivious of my movements. The maid put the tray on the tea-table in front of her and left. I entered the room, sat on the next sofa, picked up the remote, went on changing channels one after another effortlessly and then switch it off. Suddenly the coffee cups kept on the tea-table caught my attention. ‘Your coffee is getting cold’ picking up my cup I said. Diya didn’t show any sign of removing the newspaper from her face and just said, ‘hmmm.’ The incident that took place this morning was still continuously hovering in my mind with scattered memories of events that took place around me during the last few months.

After Ishan left my place and settled at his college hostel as a guest my health started deteriorating rapidly in spite of my best effort to cope with my anguish that had almost left me shattered. Due to my ill health Avijit stayed back at my place for a few weeks. He lives in the same locality that was a major reason why his parents ultimately allowed him to stay with me. With his care and support I was fast recovering. The last evening after returning from my office I saw Avijit chatting with someone over the telephone. I took a shower and then returned to the drawing room with two cups of tea. An unknown guy was there with Avijit. He must be around twenty, the same age as that of Avijit. As I entered the room he stood up and reached out his hand saying, ‘Hi! I am Anurag.’ I shook hand with him and asked him to sit down. He complied. I didn’t tell my name as he must have already known it from Avijit, who introduced him as his friend. I couldn’t remember that he had ever talked about this guy. Offering him tea I asked, ‘What do you do Anurag?’ He said, ‘No, thanks! I don’t take tea. I read in the same class with Avijit.’ I said, ‘Sorry, perhaps you were having a chat, I interrupted.’ He smiled, ‘No…Oh yes, but nothing personal. Avijit was asking if age is important in a relationship. I said absolutely. But he disagrees with me. What is your opinion?’ I didn’t really have an answer to his question and hardly had any idea as to how could I give an impromptu answer. Taking side with Anurag I said ‘well, in case of a relationship it seems to be important.’ Avijit frowned as I continued, ‘but for love, you know the saying “love knows no barrier.”’ The latter chuckled. I asked, ‘but what is the context?’ ‘Nothing’ Avijit replied. ‘What is wrong if two persons who differ in their age decide to get wedded or stay together?’ he continued. ‘But age may prove to be a decisive factor in the future of their relation’ said Anurag. ‘But though I think age is important in relationship, yet in some cases, if there is understanding and bond between the spouses it becomes unimportant’ I said with a bit hesitation in mind. Avijit objected, ‘Don’t be diplomatic.’ ‘You are quite friendly to your juniors. Avijit often talks about you. I always wanted to meet you. May I have your number please?’ said Anurag.
--Oh sure! Avijit will give you my number.

I picked up the bunch of newly arrived letters kept on the table. Most of them were unimportant—a few invitations and two letters from the bank regarding some credit offer. Only one letter caught my attention. It was from my aunt. Since Ishan didn’t have any permanent address in Kolkata as he was staying in his college hostel only as a guest, whenever she had to send something for Ishan she would send it to my address. With the bunch of those letters I entered my room. I was still looking at the envelope—trying to guess what it contained. I picked up my mobile phone and with trembling fingers I dialed the number--once, twice, thrice, with no reply. ‘He must be sleeping. At this hour! Is he okay?’ I kept the mobile on my bed and returned to my drawing room. Anurag had already left. Avijit said, ‘Dada I am too hungry.’ I said, ‘Just a few minutes!’ and went to the kitchen.

I didn’t switch off my phone that night as I was eagerly waiting for a call. Several times I checked it for a missed call alert, but no such message was there. The fan was moving just above my head on the ceiling. Perhaps I was fallen asleep. My eyes opened as I found that Avijit was kissing me on my lips. His one hand was on my private parts. I had already had a hard on which made me shy. I was a bit confused with his behavior as I had been for the last few days. I gently tried to release myself from his clutch and said, ‘What are you doing Avijit? Are you gone crazy?’
--Please don’t refuse me. I love you and I know that you do also love me a lot.
--Yes, but I loved you only as a friend and a brother.
--don’t lie. I know that you love me.
He kissed on my lower lips. Soon we got closure. I was with a guy who loved me a lot and who was ready to do anything for me. He took care of me and was with me all along in the difficulties I was passing through. For that moment I thought that Avijit’s entrance in my life in this difficult moment was a respite for me, as it could wipe out the thoughts of Ishan from my mind, which was bothering me so much and was taking its toll on my health. Further, there is the saying that it is better to spend your life with the person who loves you rather than the person whom you love. My finely waxed torso was bare open. He touched my well-defined body putting his fingers through every cut that was there, then he laid his head on my chest for a while and started sucking my nipples. I was lifted. I put off the buttons of his shirt. He didn’t have a physique like me, yet the smooth structure appeared to me so attractive that I could not remove my eyes from it. Not much hair was there on his body. Only a fine line of hair went through his naval to his pubic region. The bulge in his trousers was almost bursting in excitement. I had always been intrigued by the beauty of this naturally carved-out structure and the chiseled face, though I never desired him sexually. Yet I couldn’t resist myself and yielded to his desires that morning when he bared himself open before me lying on the bed face down, a position that indicated clear invitation. He turned his head backward, looked at my eyes in the faint morning light coming through the window panes then assumed his earlier position again. When I committed myself into the flames of his volcanic desires only to lose myself to get rid of the haunting thought of Ishan I found that this guy wanted to make a passage to my soul through bodily proximity and was not just desirous of having sex with me. I couldn’t be mistaken in this regard. I have had sex with several guys and girls in all these years of my adult life. I lived along throughout and had little concern for familial and societal values. Being a socialite I had been a favorite among both guys and girls and I had no inhibition in having close proximity with some of them. They were lured by my physique and my looks. But when I touched this guy the experience was somewhat different. I could read his body-language clearly; he surrendered himself completely to me. The unblinking eyes wide open made its passage through my eyes to my soul searching for his image in it. I knew at that very moment that he bore in his heart the newly germinated sapling of love that transcended all physical boundaries.

As I was lost, while loitering in my corridor, in the reveries of the incidents that took place in the last morning, Diya was still engrossed in a story published in the Sunday column of the newspaper. She had always been a voracious reader and reads almost every bit of printed paper that she gets. Diya lifted her eyes from the newspaper and said, ‘Sumanda may I have some snacks?’ Oops! By then she was at my place almost an hour, yet I forgot to offer her snacks. In the meantime my mobile rang. It was Ishan. Was it an illusion, he hardly ever called me up, since he left my place! I checked it out again. Yes, it was him. I received the call. There was no response from the other side. ‘Hello’ I reiterated. Still there was no reply. After a pause he said, ‘Sorry that I couldn’t receive your calls, as I was not at my hostel yesterday evening. We had a cricket-match for which we had to spend the night out. I forgot to take my mobile with me.’
--I have got a letter for you. Please collect it from me.
--Are you at home now?
--Yes.
--May I come?
--You may come any time. It is your place.
--Well, I’m coming.

He cut the line almost immediately. I was still looking at the mobile set when the maid entered, ‘Dada, I am done.’ I lifted my eyes from the mobile set still held in my hand and laid it on the tea-table. My eyes caught attention of Diya. She was looking sharply at me. In her eyes I read curiosity. As I looked into them they were hurriedly removed from mine and fixed at the maid who was standing at the door. ‘Would you please prepare some PAKODA (snacks) for Diya? She has not taken anything since the morning’ I requested the maid. ‘Sure’ she replied and went off to the kitchen.
--I am not feeling well Diya, having vertigo again. I’m going to my bedroom.
Diya hastily caught my hand as if I was going to fall instantly and led me to my bedroom.

She was grooming my hair with her fingers as I was lying on my bed effortlessly. The maid came with PAKODA-s in a bowl , placed it on the bed and asked for my permission to leave. As I agreed she left. Diya put a PAKODA in my mouth and picked up one for her. She said, ‘Sumanda how long would you stay alone? I can’t see you alone anymore.’ ‘Then don’t see’ I said with much exasperation in my voice. She was visibly offended. I didn’t soothe her, just went on chewing the PAKODA indifferently. She remained unmoved while fixing her bleak eyes at the window-pane. I know her very well, whenever she would be hurt or depressed she would become quite. Unlike most middleclass well-educated girls of her kind she never hesitates expressing her emotions, though in her own way. Her boldness of character is reflected in it as she never bothers about what others are thinking about her. I looked at the bowl. The PAKODA-s in it were almost intact. ‘Well, I got to go now Sumanda’ she said as my door bell rang. I knew it was Ishan. My giddiness was still intact, yet I tried to climb out of my bed. Diya prevented me placing her hand on my chest. ‘Lemme see. Well Sumanda I have to leave now. My mother would be waiting for lunch.’ She said.
--Take care! Tell him that I’m in.
--Whom?
--Ishan.
--Okay, see you!

She left. A little later Ishan entered. He was at the other side of the bed beside my feet looking straight in my face. ‘Sit down’ I said pointing at the remote corner of the bed. He obliged. ‘There is a letter for you lying on the table. Perhaps some important document came from your mother’ I continued. As I heard him asking ‘how are you Dada?’ my eyes filled up to the brims with tears. Since he left my place he never asked me about my health, though he might have got the news of my illness. Well I was not sure about that. Though I tried my best to conceal my emotions, yet a drop of tear crawled down my face. He came towards my head. Wiping out my tears he said ‘I’m sorry! Why didn’t you call me back when you are sick? Now on I’ll stay with you.’ A strange feeling engaged my mind, since I didn’t know what was coming next. I can’t even know whether I was happy or sad at listening to his proposal. I could sense the imminent trouble in the intricate relation between me Avijit, Diya and Ishan. So, the news of him being desirous of returning to my place could not bring unadulterated joy to my mind. But I knew the very moment I heard it that I didn’t have either the courage or the strength to refuse him. Thus he came to stay again.

(To be continued....)