We Decided

Nidhu Bhusan Das : We are now in Saharawardy Udyan, opposite the Arts Faculty of Dhaka University. It is our arbor, the Twicknam Garden of many other young lovers of the university. The shade of the Krishnachuda in the sultry mid-June afternoon is an excuse for us to be here away from the library which is our avowed destination. We smell each other, and it is intoxicating, no perfume or body spray, but the natural aroma after the perspiration dries in the shade and breeze beneath the tree. No mechanical sound and din of the downtown, the chirp of the birds, buzz of bees greets the tender hearts who flock here to know each other and decide on a lifelong relationship. The intimacy of two nightingales on a horizontal branch in our view provokes Nilu to ask,’Do we know each other much, as they do?’ Punctuated by a silence she said, diffidently, ‘Perhaps not.’ I said, ‘Then we have much to explore, and if we find we are not compatible, then?’ She bit the tip of her tongue, shut my mouth with the palm of her left hand and said,’ Don’t say so. We are childhood pals. We played, bathed, ate and slept together. What more space is required to explore!’ ‘But much time has flown between the childhood and the teens. We are now youths and remained apart during the adolescence, the most important period of psychic development,’ said I, philosophically. She asked, ‘Have I changed much, do you find me behaving differently with you? Don’t I breathe warm on you even now?’ She leaned on me as she would do under the mango tree in the south-east corner of the meadow in front of their sprawling residential complex in our village, as it were, to breathe her tender feeling into my heart. I smiled and asked mockingly, ‘Haven’t I changed much? I now shave every morning, think of love and physical union, and also of a career. I am urbane in gait and talk. Is it not significant? I understand you need explore the change and its meaning for you if you are interested about me.’ She took my right palm and boxed it within her two warm ones. The feelings of the childhood union in the meadow revisit me, and now awareness of the physical touch thrills. The taste of the fruit of forbidden tree brought in Adam and Eve, it is said, the awareness about their nudity. The fruit was, perhaps, aphrodisiac. The touch of Nilu now is likewise aphrodisiac. ‘How do you feel?’ I asked her, eagerly. I see her eye lids drop down like dew drops on the blades of grass in late autumn in Bengal. The trees are beautiful, the grass is lush green, and the birds are busy chirping their joy. We are older by three hours now. Is it wise to be carried away by emotion? I know Nilu is by heart good, but mercurial.ShouldI tell her about this my thought. Perhaps not. She would be hurt. I should not discourage her exuberance. ‘Well Nilu,’ I told fingering her black hair, ‘we may take time to decide if we are made for each other….. Need not be in a hurry.’ ‘Swapan, it is rude. You lack courage and would like to escape. Can’t dream like me and feel I am for you. How many extra miles should we travel to decide?’ she asked, evidently, disturbed. Nilu is soft spoken. She sighs but cannot retort, sobs but cannot cry. But she has inner beauty and strength, and would not unhand what she grips. I tried to test her strength: ‘Nilu, dear, it’s a fact we belong to two different religions, often taken to be antagonistic. How would we come to terms with it?’ She replied, instantly, ‘Have you seen any inhibition in me and in any of our family? Does not everyone in the family take you as one of us? Don’t my parents love you as one of their children?’ ‘That’s true,’ I said, ‘but what will be the religion of our children?’ She said,’ Why, they will have our religion.’ ‘What is that?’ I asked, puzzled. ‘Don’t we believe Ishwar and Allah are one and the same? Love is divine, and we are in love, are not we?’ I cannot contradict. We have decided. The naughty sun has disappeared. We are in union.