He Came to Stay - 5. Chapter 5

FIVE
A speedy recovery gave me the scope to resume my writing. The daily hustle and bustle on the narrow lane by my window went on as usual, often unnoticed by me, as I remained immersed in my writing. Everything seemed to be in their proper place except I had no news of Avijit for many days. I had last seen him in the morning in which Diya left my place being wounded up by my unusual behavior. Nor did I have any idea of his whereabouts. He disappeared from the scene like thin vapor. I tried a number of times to contact him but of no avail. Every time I tried to call him in, either his phone was switched off or it was busy. The idea of paying a visit to his home came to my mind a number of times, but ultimately I gave up the idea due to the conviction that he might be trying to avoid me. Perhaps, he was not comfortable about what happened that night. For myself, I didn’t sit with my violin since then. I declined three invitations from music conferences. Now all day I started feeling his absence. When he was with me, I hardly ever felt his presence, but as he left me I feel his touch at every corner of my house. Being a meticulous person he used to arrange everything in their proper places. I would find my pen at my writing desk, the pencil would be finely sharpened, even the files and folders on my desktop would be properly tagged. Being unorganized by nature I can’t keep things in their proper places. Now that he left, my house had once again turned into a mess. I started spending a lot of time in finding things of my daily use. On those occasions I did really feel his absence.

He left me when I was still very feeble. He was not here when Ishan returned. I expected him at least to call me in to know the condition of my health. Perhaps, I was expecting too much from him; he might have some other preoccupations. Or could it be that he was also expecting me to take his news? Then why didn’t he receive my calls? Anyways, I decided that I should go to his place. In the evening when I visited his place I found the house closed. His neighbor could only tell me that the entire family went to Haridwar a week back. They, however, couldn’t tell the date of their return.

With heavy heart I returned to my writing desk. Life was going on as usual with Ishan. My relation with this lad had improved since he returned. He seemed to have forgotten what happened between us when he was injured. To some extent his presence filled up the vacuum left behind by Avijit, but he being a lackadaisical guy I needed to take care of him more than he took care of me. He was after all not Avijit. The maturity that the later has cannot be expected from him.

Days passed by like the traffic on busy Kolkata roads as lethargic as they could be. Ishan was busy with his college exams and I started spending most of my time in writing. This also helped me divert my attention from him; I didn’t want to repeat the mistake again. He also appeared to have kept a safe distance from me. There would be hardly any communication, except on the dining table, between the two inmates of my house. I used to keep his breakfast and lunch ready on the table and he used to give me my medicines. At times he asked for pocket-money that also very rarely. His mother bore most of his expenses. Having almost a blind faith in him, I never asked for any reason why he should need money. And I never found him giving me the slightest scope to rebuke him. Sometimes on his holidays when he took a midday nap my eyes got stuck at the beautiful form on the bed against the window. During his waking hours I could hardly ever get the courage to look at him straight, not because of my being ashamed of what happened between us, but because of my fear that I won’t be able to control my uncontainable affection towards him.

One Friday afternoon when Ishan returned from his college a girl of around his age with a pretty face was with him. He introduced her as Manidipa. As they came in my drawing room I asked her if she would like to take tea or coffee. She was quite shy. Initially, though she refused to take anything as she said that she would be returning home soon, yet on my insistence later on she agreed to take tea.

Dark nimbus cloud accumulated in the patch of the sky visible through the open window and the wind got stronger with cold breeze entering my drawing room in that hot and humid summer afternoon. The arrival of a northwester was on the weather forecast. I asked Ishan to close the window while going to the kitchen. When I returned with tea and snacks it had already started raining with thunder-storm. All doors and windows were closed yet the sound of the torrential pouring outside let my return to the room go unnoticed by them. Engrossed in a discussion they sat very close to each other, not in a compromising position though. I made a coughing sound as I put the tray on the tea-table. That made them alert. They turned around immediately facing me. Ishan asked, ‘Where is your tea Dada?’ Looking at Manidipa I said, ‘take your tea and snacks, they are cooling down.’ Then without spending a single moment there I returned to my room. I reclined on the bed to rest my weary bones, but couldn’t take rest. I rolled on the bed for some time, and then went to my drawing room again. ‘It is pouring heavily outside and Manidipa is getting late I suppose’ said I to Ishan. ‘I’ll drop her at her home; Bullygunge is not far away from our place.’ he said. ‘No, you needn’t go. ‘I can myself reach home safely’ she objected. ‘Let the rain stop. I shall be going to Diya’s place and on my way I will drop you at Bullygunge’ I assured her. Ishan seemed to be not quite comfortable with my proposal. ‘Why are you taking the trouble yourself? I can go with her’ he said. ‘Don’t bother; I have no news of Diya for many days. I need to pay her a visit. I will be going through the same route’ I insisted and left my drawing room immediately without giving the any chance to raise further objections to my proposal.

The rain stopped a little later I went out with Manidipa. I, however, didn’t pay a visit to Diya that evening after dropping Manidipa at her residence. I didn’t feel the urge to visit her place; instead I went to a pub and had some drinks. I thought that Ishan would be fast asleep when I returned. As I didn’t feel like having anything for dinner that night, I went to my bedroom directly. Ishan was lying on the bed, apparently sleeping. As I entered the room he said without looking at me, ‘Did u return just now? How is Diyadi?’ I wasn’t prepared with an answer to this question. Instead I asked, ‘haven’t you slept yet?’
--I have to ask you for some suggestions.
--About what?
--About Manidipa.
My heartbeat grew faster. Had my guess been true? Did they share any relation beyond friendship?
--What has happened to her?
--Nothing. She has developed an infatuation on me.
--How do you know that it is an infatuation and not love?
--Well, truly speaking I don’t know. I think so.
--And what is your feeling about her?
--I don’t know. I am confused. That’s why I am asking you. I like her. But I don’t know if I do also love her.
--It’s your life Ishan. You have to decide. Take some time and decide yourself.
--I couldn’t decide that’s why I asked you.
--I can’t help you in this regard. Advices don’t work in such cases. What is important in this case is not what is right or what is wrong, but what your heart feels about her. Ask to yourself. Someday you will get the answer.

Ishan went off sleeping, but I remained awake the entire night. I spent many years alone in that room before but seldom felt lonely, but that night my deserted soul was longing for its expansion in the communion with its ‘other’ who remained veiled in the haze of my overcast passion. I felt the absence of Avijit more than ever before. I pick up the phone and dialed his number knowing it very well that either he would not respond or I would find it switched off. I called him in. It went for a full ring with no response. I looked at the ‘no response’ message and throw the mobile off beside my pillow. Then again I picked it up and made another attempt. This time he picked up the phone. I was in doubt if it was really his voice that I was listening to. Yes, I was sure, it couldn’t but be him. ‘Where are you now?’ I asked.
--I’m back to Kolkata.
--when did you return to Kolkata?
--Just yesterday evening.
--I called you in a number of times, but you didn’t pick up your phone.
There was an insurmountable silence on the other end of the telephone. I went on saying.
--Why, Why didn’t you contact me?
--I’m sorry.
--Sorry for what?
Again there was a pause. Then he murmured, ‘I think it all happened due to me. I insisted on it. You just wanted to make me happy. Whenever I thought about the incident, I had been ashamed of it, not because it did take place, but because I shouldn’t have created pressure on you.’ As I shouted out, ‘Shut up! Don’t speak nonsense. I’m not a child’ the innocent face of Ishan, who was totally unaware of what was going on in between these two guys, caught my eyes. For that moment nothing on earth appeared in my imagination more adorable with inner beauty and contentment than that sleeping face unconcerned at the intrigued relations of this world. My eyes filled up with tears. As my eyes delved deeper and deeper along in the ocean of that sleeping beauty, forgotten memories resurged my heart with excruciating pain. I was longing for touching his forehead, but dropped the idea almost immediately lest his sleep should get disturbed.
--Are you there? Are you listening to me?

I came to myself leaving behind my anguished past. My tormented self was craving for respite in the care similar to that I received from Avijit during my illness. I heard the sound of a passing train, probably a goods’ train, on the telephone.
--Where are you right now? Are you going to somewhere?
--No.
--But I heard the sound of a train. Are you at the station?
--Yes.
--What are you doing there?
--Nothing. I am seated at a remote corner of the station near my house.
--What? Have you gone crazy? But why? Why at the railways station at this late hours in the night?
He didn’t reply. ‘Anything wrong? Why don’t you tell me?’ I continued.
--Leave it, you won’t understand.

As he uttered the last sentence his voice deepened as if he was in tears. At that moment I realized that I never tried to understand the feeling of this guy. He is much younger than me, around the age of Ishan. Yet I always had taken him for granted. Since he was quite matured compared to his age and since he had always taken care of me in every need, I took his support as naturally as air and water; never felt his presence when he was in my life, and now when he was away I started feeling his absence in all my activities.
--Are you crying?
--No. I’m okay!
--Please Avijit, you seem to be not will. Please tell me what has happened to you!
--Leave it! You take care of yourself. How is your health?
--I’m fine, but quite concerned about you.
--Please don’t be worried about me. I’m solely responsible for the torment that I am going through. I need to suffer for what I did.
--You never considered me to be your close friend, that’s why you can’t share your feelings with me. It is not your fault. Perhaps I had not been as friendly to you as I should be.
--Don’t blame it on yourself. It is me who can’t control his emotions. I’m a damn fool. I’m suffering for nothing. I went to Haridwar with the idea that if I leave Kolkata for some days, I would be able to forget everything. But I was utterly wrong. I just left the city; Kolkata was still there in me, in me in all my thoughts, haunting me all the time everywhere that I went to and every people that I meet up with. Please don’t bother, I’ll be alright.
--Then why didn’t you receive my call?
--I wanted to forget you. But now I realized that I can’t forget you. Please don’t be scared, I won’t create any pressure on you. I can control myself.
My eyes filled up with tears.
--You hurt me Avijit. You never considered me as your own, that’s why you are suffering alone. I think I have had the right to share a part of your suffering. You deprived me of my right.
--Please Sumanda don’t make me weak. I’m trying my best to control myself. Your words will make me infirm. I know that it’s not possible. You are not well and I don’t want to bother you anymore.
--are you still at the platform?
--Yes.
--Wait, I’m coming.

The railway station is not far away from my place. I changed my night suit hastily and went off with an umbrella. The rain had already stopped long ago. There was water-logging here and there on the road. Very few commuters were visible on the road; most of them were vendors rushing towards the railways station to catch up the last local train. As I reached the station Avijit was not visible anywhere. I walked along the platform, and then on the furthest corner I could locate him sitting on a cargo-chest. The day was yet to break and the place was deserted. I had not difficulty in recognizing him as Avijit. He stood up as I approached him. He was still sobbing as he said, ‘Why shouldn’t have come Sumanda? You need rest.’
I didn’t say anything just embraced him with a bear hug. Both of us were in tears but the reasons might be different.
--I Love you Sumanda. I love you.
--I Love you too. But why are you here at these wee hours in the night? If your parents come to know about it!
‘I love you!’ he reiterated. I kissed his lips gently and wiped off his tears with my tongue. He embraced me tighter and as I also held him tight against my breast he seemed to have released his entire body weight on to me. His heart-beat grew faster. His deep breaths were blowing like a trumpet on my left ear. As I embraced him, his erect penis rubbed against mine giving me an arousal.

(To be continued....)