He Came to Stay - 8. Chapter 8

EIGHT
Ishan came up with his story, but I couldn’t think even in the wildest of my dreams that it would turn out to be a nightmare for me. The more I was trying to make things straight for me the more they were getting tangled. Perhaps it was destiny, or perhaps it was because of my ardent effort to control my passions for Ishan; the more you pull the open ends of a disheveled skein of wool in your desperation to make it tidy the more you get it tangled. I was patiently waiting for him to come up with the truth, the truth that remaining veiled was troubling me so much, the truth that was taking its toll on my health as I developed insomnia once again since the growing relation between Manidipa and came to my notice. I tried my best to divert my attention to other things that interest me; still the nagging thought persisted in my mind.

I had no idea of Avijit’s whereabouts for many days since he left my place that afternoon being infuriated by Ishan’s prying behavior. I needed his company most at that point in time, yet I knew him well that he is a tough nut to crack, I knew that he won’t return soon unless I make my relation with Ishan clear to him or until I would make him feel that I earnestly needed his company.

I knew that he was suffering in his solitude, but didn’t have any way to pacify him. How would I clarify my relation with Ishan to him when I myself had a lot of confusion about it in my mind? As I was wondering as to its exact nature, Ishan maintained his calm and reticence as if nothing had happened at all. Perhaps, this thought so preposterous in its nature had no basis in reality, yet, I didn’t know how it managed to take me over under its spell completely to leave me at the end completely devastated. Books generally keep me captivated as I remain engrossed in them for hours, but they started appearing to be uninteresting, chatting with friends proved to be futile and tedious, spending hours in the gym had only started taking its toll on my health, then one day I rang up Diya. ‘How are you?’ I asked hesitantly as she said, ‘hallo’ from the other end with a bit of curiosity in her voice.
--Then, after so long at last you remembered me!
I ignored the tacit insinuation in her reply as I needed her support desperately. I knew how I behaved to her was to a great extent improper, though I couldn’t convince myself that it was due to my fault that I talked to her rudely; to me it was more due to the circumstance that compelled me to behave in that manner, or perhaps, my poor health contributed to my being irritated. Anyways, I didn’t apologize, yet I knew that the moment I would give her a call she would forgive me and would pay me a visit. ‘I need to talk to you Diya’ I said.
--Anything serious? Your frail voice tells that you are not well Sumanda.
--Nothing to worry about. Still….
--Are you at home now?
--Ya.
--I’m coming in an hour.

I didn’t notice when Diya entered my room and sat silently on the furthest corner of my bed. My melancholy eyes were strolling aimlessly through my window in the narrow lane outside it. The street was empty, except a vagabond and a stray dog, both half-drenched in the heavy pouring that was going on relentlessly for the last two hours, were sharing the same shelter in a garage of an under-construction high-rise building. Occasionally one or two commuters, who having missed their trains due to the rain returned late in the evening, rushed towards their home with umbrellas spread over their heads. Everyone passing through that small patch of the road appeared to have a unique story to tell of her own, whether or not she would come up with her tale that’s a different issue, yet you can’t discern one from the others as their faces are covered up under the umbrellas.

Ishan had not yet returned home. He should have given me a call with an explanation of his being late. He had never been so insensible before as he used to inform me about all his moves, usually in advance, but of late I was noticing that he was being oblivious about these etiquettes; or was it intentional, was he trying to silently give me the message that he is an independent adult and deserved more autonomy than was granted to him? Was I thinking too much and too far? Might it not be the case that he was simply assuming that I would understand that he was stranded somewhere due to the rain? Perhaps, he was busy having a conveyance to home. First I thought that I should give him a call to know if he was in trouble, but my ego interfered and somehow prevented me to call him up. If he wouldn’t care for my concern, then why should I entreat him by calling him up? If he would think of himself that he had grown up, and could take care of himself without my assistance, then let it be so. Suddenly, the thought of Diya came to my mind. I shouldn’t have asked her to come in this weather knowing it very well that she won’t be able to neglect my request and would come taking all the trouble in this hostile weather. My conscience prompted me that I should give her another call to cancel the appointment. As I looked back for my mobile phone, her smiling face at the other end of the bed caught my attention. ‘When did you arrive?’ I asked her looking at my wrist watch.
--Just 10 minutes back.
--Then, why didn’t you call me? I think you had a lot of trouble on the road as there must have been water-logging at places.
--Yup, but not much. My driver is quite familiar with the roads of Kolkata; he avoided those which are water-logged. Please don’t get annoyed, but you look pale, you need to take care of yourself.
--Ya, I’m suffering from insomnia again. But I invited you to discuss with you something else.
She just threw an inquisitive look at me without saying anything.
--Ishan appears to be developing a relationship.
--Sorry, I didn’t get you.
--He seems to have an affair.
--With whom?
--Manidipa, you don’t know her, she often comes here.
--Well, but what’s the problem, even if he enters into a relationship? That’s quite natural in his age.
That was the most difficult, if not impossible, question for me to answer as I myself was searching for an answer to that question for so many days.
--Ya, ‘natural’….but, you know he being the only child of his mother, she has a lot of hopes on his future. I am afraid that he might mess up his career if he diverts his attention to such things at this age. You know that he is not a studious type of guy and spends a lot of time with his friends and games. Now on top of that if he spends time in having an affair, then his future is definitely gonna be doomed.

That was definitely not the main reason, yet I couldn’t find the courage in me to tell her the actual reason behind my objection against his having an affair with Manidipa, not because I considered her not to be trustworthy, but, perhaps, because it wasn’t articulated even to myself; or may it be that I didn’t want it to come to the fore!
--hahahaha! You are too much Sumanda! Is it your ‘serious thing’ to discuss, for which you called me in at this hour? You suffer because you think a lot unnecessarily. Perhaps, even his mother would not be so perturbed as you are had she come to know about his son’s affair.

I knew that his mother won’t, yet I couldn’t help thinking about it. My entire mind was preoccupied with this single thought even though I tried my best to get rid of it. ‘Don’t laugh. It’s serious’ I said.
--Well, then why don’t you talk to him directly?
--Do you think that I should? If he gets offended and starts ignoring me, or worse, denies it in my face? Then what is now under the veil will come up in the broad daylight. Is that desirable?
--as far as I know Ishan I believe that he will tell you the truth if there is any. I can’t understand why you are so apprehensive about it. Anyways, I’m getting late.

Any further discussion could obviously unravel truths that I was so carefully keeping at bay for so long both for me and others. Though I really wanted to share with Diya my agony, that was why I called her in, but wanted to share that much only and not the truths that might come associated with it. As I started talking to her, this appeared to be an impossible task to pursue. It didn’t take much time for me to realize that I better stop this discussion immediately. So, when Diya asked for my permission to leave I didn’t raise any serious objection, though on several of such occasions, when the weather conditions were unfriendly, she stayed back at my place. But this time I didn’t request her to stay back.

As she left I was again all alone with my anguish, eagerly waiting for Ishan to return. He returned very late that night, fully drenched up to his skin. ‘I want to ask you something’ I said. ‘Please ask’ he urged with a bit of suspicion in his voice.
--Not today. You will catch cold, first you change your cloth and come to the dining table immediately, and the food is getting cold.
--Is that something serious?
--Don’t worry; I will let you know when time comes.

The next morning Ishan woke up early when I was still in bed though not fast asleep. It being a Sunday I was lethargic to leave my bed, while he was loitering in the room impatiently. He was hesitant calling me as he knew that I go to bed late in the night and prefer to remain lain till late in the morning, often till noon on holidays. As his eagerness culminated in a crescendo he called me politely, ‘Dada…. Won’t you wake up now?’ I didn’t reply, just turned around facing the top. ‘You were supposed to discuss something, weren’t you?’ he continued. I was also eager to discuss it with him; still I refrained from showing my eagerness lest he should understand my interest in the entire affair. Opening up my eyes I reluctantly said, ‘wait, I’m going to the toilet. In the meantime you bring the breakfast from the kitchen.’

During breakfast I ultimately gathered my courage to ask him, ‘don’t you think that you should discuss something with me.’
--Like?
--You are here for your studies and your mother has lot of expectations on you. I never behaved as your guardian, still she considers me as good as your local guardian. In that sense I am also accountable for what you are doing.

In my haste to express myself I uttered the last sentence, though as it sounded in my ears I realized that it was too harsh, I should have been more polite to him. As I know him he is a straight-forward and impulsive guy, who has hardly have the tolerance to withstand any adverse criticism without reacting to it frantically. The pressure in the ambiance mounted as he asked, ‘what you think am I doing?’
--That you know. How on earth can I tell?
--It was you who accused me.
‘I didn’t accuse you, just asked’ I toned down my voice.
--But how can I reply out of the context? You should at least tell me the point of reference first before I reply.
--Don’t you really understanding what I am talking about?
He helplessly fixed his bleak eyes at me which made me convinced that he is really caught in the blue.
--Don’t you think that unlike earlier you are not sharing with me the new developments of your life?
--New developments? What sort of new developments? Do you think that I am having an affair with Manidipa?
--I never said that, it is only you who is telling her name.
--You never said but you meant that, I’m matured enough to understand that much.
--Even if you are in a relationship with her, still I have no right to raise an objection to that; but you should at least make your position clear to me.
--what do you mean? Do you think that I having an illicit relation with her?
--How on earth I can know what happens between you and her--it is you who only knows. That’s why I am asking you. If there is nothing going on then why does she come here so frequently?
--How would I know? It is entirely question of her personal choice. If you have any objection to her coming to your place then ask her not to come. Well, I’ll tell her not to come to your house.
--Stop it! You know it very well that I didn’t wanna mean that. Don’t try to put words in my mouth.
--you hurt me; you seem not to believe me anymore, I can’t bear all this.

He left the room immediately and didn’t talk to me the entire day. I repented that I should have talked to him graciously rather than bullying him straightaway. I started the conversation with the hope that it would bring down the intensity of my depression, but on the contrary it enhanced my despair by a thousand times. I was looking for the opportune moment to appease him, but hardy got the chance. He avoided me all the day, even at night he went to bed earlier and when I tried to talk to him after switching off the lights he didn’t reply my call as if he was sleeping.

The next morning seeing him packing his belongings I asked, ‘where are you going?’ ‘To my hostel’ he said precisely. I knew that I hurt him, but in his conceited quiet he never tried to understand my love for him, even though all my adverse reactions that offended him so much originated at that single point. I didn’t try to stop him this time. If he didn’t have any concern for my feelings, if he could think about leaving me when he knew that I was not doing well either physically or mentally, then why should I beg for his company? I looked on as he was packing. While leaving he stopped at the door and looked back at me perhaps with the expectation that I would prevent him from leaving, but I remained unmoved at my doorsill with my head tilted downwards oblivious about what truth was going to unravel itself if the imminent future.

(To be continued....)