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    Sagar
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

He Came to Stay - 6. Chapter 6

Sometimes people behave in an unexpected way. There always exists a reason behind that though.
SIX
My liaison with Avijit was an impromptu response to his emotional outburst that night; however, when I reflect on the entire incident only one thing appears in my mind as the crux of the entire affair that had I not been ruined by my uncontrollable attachment towards Ishan, Avijit would not be in my life. Perhaps, I wanted a refuge in the calming custody of the latter. When in spite of trying my level best to get Ishan out of my mind I failed miserably, I maintained a safe distance from him on the expectation that gradually I would be able to get rid of that enduring feeling. I never wanted to know whether he also loved me, nor even had I the courage to explore that. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. The thought persisted in my mind with ever escalating magnitude despite all my efforts to the contrary. I started spending much more time with Avijit than ever before. Almost every afternoon he would come to my place and we would sit for practice with our violin. He will ask me to prepare new cuisines for him. I enjoyed cooking for him, but somehow I always avoided preparing some particular dishes. Now when I reflect on them I realize that those were the preparations which didn’t suit Ishan’s palate.

Avijit’s music lesion was going on as usual. Nothing seemed to have changed in the house or in the surrounding except that the overcast of thick monsoon clouds heavy with humidity gathering from the from the southern bay confined us in the house. Unnoticed by me nimbus cloud was also creeping in my mind gradually casting me again gloomy. Ishan being an extrovert was busy in his usual outdoor activities completely unaware about what was going on in the house.

My aunt wanted to go on a pilgrimage to Kalighat, the famous Kali temple in Kolkata. She was staying at my place. This confined Ishan to some extent in the house. He appeared not to be quite happy spending so much time at home, yet he couldn’t offend his mother as came to see him after many months. Ishan had to accompany her when she went to Kalighat. Like many other boys of his age he is not a religious guy, yet he has to accompany his mother to the temples whenever she pays a visit.

The next morning after my aunt came to my place, I rushed to the kitchen where a huge pandemonium was going on. As my aunt came Ishan and I shifted to the drawing room leaving my bedroom for my aunt. As I heard her shouting, ‘Don’t cut such nasty jokes. I won’t tolerate them’ I got out of my bed. When I reached at the door of the kitchen Ishan was chortling and my aunt was still shouting. I can understand her level of indignation at the chuckling boy when she is so angry. Being completely ignorant of what happened between these mother-son duos in the morning I threw an inquisitive look at Ishan. He said, ‘Mom got angry as I said that I won’t be able to pay a visit to my grand ma, as I am supposed to hand over my tutorial notes to Manidipa.’ It was out of the blue as I knew nothing. I asked him you were supposed to go to the temple this morning isn’t it? Then where did your grandma came from in the story?’ he chuckled as he said, ‘Well, Kali is my mother’s ‘mother’, so by virtue of relation she becomes my grandma, isn’t she?’ I also laughed at the irrefutable logical reasoning of this boy as my aunt shouted with disgust, ‘If you cut such jokes with gods and goddesses, then,…, then,…, then I’ll see you!’ I could hardly control my laughter. Afraid of irritating her further I left the spot immediately.

Ishan was the only issue of my aunt. When after visiting a number of gynecologists they still didn’t have an issue, my aunt went to Kalighat and prayed to goddess Kali for a child. After Ishan was born she developed an entrenched faith in the goddess. He was rather a late issue of my aunt. After my uncle passed away, my aunt raised Ishan with all her care and attention. She had all along been a bit obsessive; but after the demise of my uncle her obsession increased a number of times. As the feud between them grew up to an unbearable extent, I had to intervene. The issue was whether Ishan was to go with his mother to the temple or whether he will go to Manidipa’s place to deliver tutorial notes. Ishan’s argument was based on the claim that it was very important to deliver the notes to Manidipa as the examinations were approaching. And, furthermore, he was ready to accompany his mother to the temple of the subsequent day. My aunt, on the other hand, was not ready to let that auspicious day go to waste. I thought for a while then advised Ishan to go with his mother and said that I would send Avijit to deliver Manidipa her notes. At first Ishan objected to this proposal, but upon my insistence he agreed. I released a deep sigh of relief and retired to my writing desk.

They left for the temple and after a while Avijit came. It being a Sunday Avijit came in the morning. On weekdays he generally came in the evening after I returned from my office. But on Sundays he would come in the morning and stay the entire day. I couldn’t have chance to have a chat with him in private from the day when I went to meet him at the nearby railways station. When he entered my study I was reading a book. He snatched the book from my hand and said, ‘No serious business! Today is Sunday.’ It is not only this time that he prompted things to me; he had always prompted things to me. I don’t know how he got that habit, nor do I know who on earth had given him the right to prompt things to me! He is many years younger than me and it is not that he didn’t respect me. Still he somehow managed to get the right to rebuke me and to prompt me what would be good for me and what would bad. And now I realize that I had always indulged him by yielding to his demands.

I was caught completely by surprise as Avijit snatched the book from my hand. I stood up immediately and looked at him. I knew that my study was over at least for the morning. I took the book back from Avijit calmly, put a marker at the right place, and then closing it I laid it on my desk. We went to my bedroom. It was after several days that we are left alone. Ishan and his mother would not return before afternoon. My back was aching from the previous day’s gym workout. I asked Avijit to give me a back massage lying on my bed. Avijit removed my pants and started giving me massage. My torso was already bare. I was only in my underwear. He started with a gentle massage on my back and shoulders. I expected him to proceed further to my butts. However, he went on as if he was a professional masseur having no personal attachment to his client. I was surprised. I asked, ‘Do you love me Avijit?’ ‘Yes, I do. But don’t know whether you do also love me. I can’t get you out of mind for a single moment. Still I’m sorry for what happened between us that morning. I know you did it only for me. Had I not been so insistent on having it, you would not do it. You just wanted to see me happy.’ He finished his words almost in a single breath as if he was waiting for ages to convey this to me.
--Who said this to you? Did I ever accuse you for what happened between us that morning? How do you know that I didn’t enjoy that?
--Well, you never told me. But I can understand.
--Don’t put your poor shrunken brain in too much trouble. You need not think, just need to love me as you do.
He smiled. ‘I need a hips massage as well’ I continued. He removed my underwear and started pressing my butts hard. Then he took a few drops of oil, applied it on my butts and again rubbed them by moving his hands on them in a circular way. It gave me a titillating feeling. I had a full erection, though it was not visible to Avijit as I was lying on my chest. Raising my hand I lay him on the bed forcibly and rode on him. While undressing him slowly I muttered, ‘I love you!’ till then he remained passive. But as I uttered the three words he suddenly held me tight and teardrops filled his eyes up to their brims. I asked, ‘why are you crying you stupid?’
--I never expected this to be true even in the wildest of my dreams.
--Shut up! Who has bestowed upon you the solemn duty of thinking on my behalf? That’s why I call you stupid! You unnecessarily think too much and suffer as a consequence.

He was about to say something but I locked his lips with mine. He tried to push me back but ultimately surrendered himself me. Ishan’s innocent sleeping face continually haunted my mind as I kissed Avijit all over his body. While I was gradually going closer to Avijit, perhaps, in the back of my mind I there was the expectation that my proximity with him would someday put to an end my longing for Ishan. ‘You are much younger than me; but you have given me care in all possible ways under all circumstances. But now that I come to realize that you never considered me to be your own, the thought that you have taken too much trouble for me during the last few months, gives me trouble’ I said.
--I know only one thing Sumanda that I love you!
--Then why didn’t you share your feelings with me? Only because I’m too old for you!
--Not exactly that. You are just 10-12 years onder than me and in love that doesn’t matter at all for me. I couldn’t believe that you would also love me. You were already in the bed. So, I didn’t want to bother you with my feelings about you. I thought that I would be able to come out of it if I go away from you and this place for some days. That’s why I went to Haridwar with my parents taking leave from my college. But it had been futile. Now I have realized that just like gravitational force the bond of love also intensify as the distance between the persons concerned increases. The distance simply strengthened my feelings about you.

I wiped off his tears with my tongue; and then had a deep smooch, while my hands were rubbing his nipples. They were already erect. He produced a hissing sound like that of a serpent. I wanted more but I was afraid that my aunt and Ishan could return at any time. Ishan has a duplicate key with him. So, they can enter the house without giving us a chance for being alert. We had to be satisfied with only foreplay, though it went on for long.

We were waiting our lunch for Ishan and his mother. They returned after 3 p.m. We were quite hungry by then. I asked Ishan, ‘Did you take anything on your way back home?’
--No. Though I was very hungry, my mother was not ready to take anything outside. How could I eat without her when she was fasting from the morning?’
--well, then don’t waste time, wash off your hands and come for lunch.
My aunt intervened, ‘How do you expect us to take lunch in this condition! We have travelled by bus. Don’t know we are touched by how many people. Wait! Let me have a bath first.’ Ishan said, ‘you may take a bath if you wish, but I’m not gonna take a bath now. I’m too hungry.’ ‘You do whatever you wish. You take your lunch; I have to do Puja after bath. I’ll take time.’ We took our lunch and retired in the drawing room before the television set.

Ishan sitting beside me started inspecting my triceps by pressing them with his thin fingers. ‘You have developed your muscles further since I had last seen you shirtless; didn’t you?’ I produced the monosyllabic sound, ‘hmmm!’ Contrary to my expectation my cold response proved to be ineffective to deter him. He went on, ‘please flex your chest muscle. I want to see them.’
--Later.
--Please do it now for me.
I threw a disgusted look at him as I said, ‘I’m watching the TV.’ Avijit, who was watching us keenly sitting in the sofa stood up saying, ‘Well Sumanda, I got to go now. I have another appointment.’ I knew that he didn’t have any other appointment that afternoon as he asked me to sit with him on a violin recital that evening. I didn’t want to make him uneasy before Ishan by reminding him the plan for the violin recital. I bade him good bye for then. He left immediately without saying anything to Ishan. I noticed that he didn’t look at Ishan before leaving. Nor did he bid a good bye.

I wanted to chide Ishan for his behavior, but refrained at the end being afraid of bringing to the fore what was lurking behind the convoluted relation among these three guys. Perhaps I was the only person in this trio who could discern through this prism of relational bond among us, the other two being only able to see only one side of what appeared to be opaque pyramidal structure of relationship. I looked in Ishan’s face. It still bore remnants of the satisfaction produced by the success of his move in the chess of life. I was a bit surprised at this behavior of him as I had always found him a simple guy, who can seldom play such tricks. I wanted to believe that it all happened unintended by him. But his expressions produced a strong gut feeling in me that it was intentional on his part. Perhaps, making stereotypes for human character is bound to have their shortcomings as human character is divergent and is shaped by different, and often, conflicting interests. What intrigued me most was the significance of this behavior of Ishan, rather than the behavior itself. Why did he do this? Was he possessive about me? Was he jealous about Avijit? If so, why? As I was thinking on these questions, Ishan, who was sitting just beside me silently, stared at me. He didn’t say anything apparently due to the seriousness that cast over my face while I was thinking.

(To be continued....)

Copyright © 2016 Sagar; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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