Kill You, Sure (16)

Kill You, Sure (16)

                                             Nidhu Bhusan Das

            
             
                              



           The Boac Boeing has stabilized midair over Dhaka after take-off from Shahjalal International Airport in the winter December morning. The flight is to terminate in London. Bithi set her eyes on the clouds which keeps her thought downy. She hears a greeting: “Maidin mhaith!”(Irish for “Good Morning”).
“Irish!” she exclaimed and turned around, astonished and annoyed.
“Tá mé Conor. Tá aithne agam ort,”( I'm acquainted with you )said the young man,unperturbed. 
“Níl a fhios agam agat,” (I don’t know you )snarled Bithi,annoyed being interrupted.
Conor daresn’t proceed further.
Nothing but the impending get-together on the occasion of the anniversary of her grand parents is absorbing for Bithi.She is headed for Maryland to attend the event.However, the unexpected interruption has brought to mind the face of Anik at JNU,the charming boy,gentle and innocent.”This is  sort of quirky,” she thinks” that a disturbing incident stirs memory which is not unwelcome ,if not acceptable.Memory distracts,and often leads to comparison that may confuse.Anik isn’t Nizam... Nizam never deviates.Anik has someone to influence his decision, that girl, the naughty and envious Divya.The sense of etiquette doesn’t allow Bithi to use harsh language, or she would say Divay’s wicked,crafty who doesn’t have the sense of decency expected of a JNU student. Now she feels pity for Anik.Why? Unaware so long, Bithi has formed an idea of Anik being in love with her but unable to express.Is it that he has the religious inhibitions,being from a conservative region of India. Maybe, it isn’t so. He smiles always,an inviting and innocent smile. Such innocence cannot harbour any inhibitions,Bithi’s sure,almost.
“But I’m bound...cannot respond,”Bithi is conscientious. The face of Nizam’s in her mirror.She smiles,and the shining cloud greet the smile.She remembers her grand parents who’re a profile of honesty in their bond.Her parents’re also models of beauty and truth in their love life in togetherness. “I will be happy with Nizam ... why to look for someone else?” Bithi thinks,unaware that the plane’s now flying over the sky of Delhi,waiting for signal to land at the Indira Gandhi International Airport for a stopover.The announcement of the pilot breaks her reverie.But the smile lingers with the dream she has been in so long in the air.
She’s to wait at the lounge a couple of hours and have lunch before re embarking for the second leg of the intercontinental journey.The lounge is global in ambience, and abuzz with cheerful people around.With every flight landing new people arrive, and as many leave as other flights take off for different destinations across the world.Bithi remembers Tennyson writes,”For man may come and man may go...”, and a philosophic gloom visits her about the entry and exit of humans in this world.Usually sociable,in such a state of trance, she cannot interact with people.The thought about her grand parents being septuagenarians comes to her mind and reinforces the gloom.Never before did she have such a thought about her ever green and cheerful grannies.Her green eyes glitter with tears and some drops glisten her cheeks.Quickly she puts on the    glasses and employs efforts to hold back the liquid.Since she has read the poem of Tennyson,she fears a brook which symbolizes permanence against the evanescence of individual life.She doesn’t want to see a couple of brook run down her cheek.
The cell phone buzzes.Bithi sees it is her papa calling.”Hello Papa!” she answers.Despite efforts she couldn’t prevent her voice from being choked.Anis Chowdhury,struck by the sadness in her tone,asks,”D’you feel lonely,dear? Why? We’re coming and go together from New York.”He hands over the phone to Reba.
“I know,Papa...but..,”Bithi utters,laboriously.
“Had lunch?” asks Reba,her voice wet.
“Going to have,Mom,” Bithi says,to console her tender mother.She looks at her watch.Time to have lunch,she remembers and goes to the restaurant.She doesn’t feel hungry,and might go without lunch had her mother not reminded. She often forgets meal,not that she’s habitually melancholic;she remains absorbed in thought.She feels life more in thought.Whatever happens,she transforms that into thought to analyze it, to comprehend the essence.Now she thinks of the greeting of the Irish boy,of  Anik and his “Kill you” refrain,of Nizam.( next to follow soon)