Kill You, Sure (15)

                     Love Making

  Kill You, Sure (15)

                              Nidhu Bhusan Das

   It’s twilight.Evening birds twitter their way back home.Already some tired dryads are roosting on the giant banyan,its huge canopy attracts myriad winged beauties,and they keep the tree eloquent.Divya’s head is cradled on the lap of Ankit.Only the birds witness their amorous togetherness.

“Sorry,I’ve misread you.Now I understand,”Divya goes emotional.

 “Pardon.”

“I shouldn’t have thought that way.”

“What thought?”

“That you’ve tenderness…”

“I have.So what!”

“I mean you…”

“Yes, I love you.”

“You love...me! Is it?”

“Is it wrong?”

“No Ankit,I don’t mean that.”

               Ankit’s unaware of the intended meaning of Divya.Under the canopy,he’s in joy with his girl,who’s now assured of having her coveted man in possession.Ankit doesn't share such feeling with her although they’ve turned one,soul and body.Divya’s back to her room at 9 p.m.,tired but elated.She’s in the washroom to rub off the day’s weariness and the remains of the cause of joy.She gets ready for bed to be in a tranquil sleep and sweet dreams.

“It’s stupid to be in love,” thinks Ankit,lying on his back, awake.Logic has gripped him and brought him back to prosaic sense.The Romantic aura under the tree in the lunar illusion is over after he has the first experience of functional love.He ruminates on how the innocent Green Eyes has been implicated by the jealous girl.”Divya isn’t equal,rather far  below the girl from Dhaka in stature and personality.It’s difficult to go with the girl who is aggressive with the venom of inferiority complex,no matter that she is,like him, from Haryana.

                   Bithi’s in communication with her cousin she will join soon in Maryland.She tells the girl across the Atlantic how an Indian girl in the campus,not familiar with her,is jealous of her imagining that she’s her rival in love.”This is fantastic,”she says with a peel of laughter.”Yes,you’re right,love’s preceded by the sense of possessiveness in this part of the world,”Bithi agrees.

                  Ankit goes out to the library to spend the possible sleepless night in the company of books.He’s a bibliophile,books remain scattered on his bed.Divya didn’t ask,but if you ask he’d tell,without a second thought, “Book’s my first love.Here Divya’s wrong.”

“Are you sure?”Ankit asks himself.Doubt has arisen.Should he be carried away by amour and hang the academic pursuit? Ankit  thinks,seriously.”No Divya,I won’t sacrifice.You too shouldn’t.Let’s do it after degree,”he thinks.

                       The cell phone sounds.Ankit pulls it out.A Hangouts message,from Divya.He opens it: “Where dear?I’m yet to rub off the moments we enjoyed a few hours back.”

Ankit ‘s in two minds.Should he continue or just ignore?She’s become desperate in the present mood.If ignored,she’s sure to despair.He himself cannot deny his role in the buildup to her present desire and desperation.In case he ignores,he will deny his part.It’s against Haryanvi pride and personal honesty.Ankit cannot afford to be dishonest.

“At the library,”Ankit has messaged back,tersely.

“Is it!But why?Won’t you sleep?”

“Something urgent,you know,”he lies.

“Urgent!But what could be more urgent than the sweet memory of two hours after dusk,”Divya tries to understand.

“Ankit,you need have sleep,dear.”

“You know,work on hand,” Ankit’s hesitant.

“You’re naughty,dear.Feel like coming to see,”desires Divya.

The loving tone of the girl takes

                  Ankit back to the event under the tree.The memory rattles the boy.He isn’t in politics,has been a loner craving for a company.Bithi stole his heart but dared not tell her or share with anybody.When Divya approached,his long cherished desire found a mooring, and the evening of coming together was a kind of fulfilment even for him.The Platonic love for the foreigner was replaced by sensual pleasure with the native girl.Now he feels like being with Divya again. “Shall I call her to come?”he thinks with a strong desire to feel her passionate breath on the face.

“Well,come and see,”he replies.

              Divya’s excited.She gets out of bed,promptly puts on casuals,locks the door,and hops down the stairs,rushes to the library.(to be continued)

Kill You, Sure (14)

           Kill You, Sure (14)

                                        Nidhu Bhusan Das

 Bithi’s at the stands of M.Chinnaswamy Stadium with Nizam for the Twenty20 World Cup match between India and Bangladesh.Both are cricket enthusiasts for different reasons.Bithi’s all praise for the game for its drama, suspense, poetry and beauty, enhanced by uncertainties. And she loves Bangladesh, the country of her father. For Nizam, he himself played in Abahani Krira Chakra in domestic cricket when he’s a student. The commonality of interest in the game, among other things, brings them face to face from time to time. They scarcely miss an international match in which Bangladesh plays.

                

                                 They sit among a swaying crowd of Bangladeshi fans who yell and wave their national flag at the fall of Indian wickets, and when chasing a target of 147 runs, the Tigers are in their scoring spree to the discomfort and anxiety of Team India.

“No, we’ll win,” Bithi assures Nizam.

“Don’t know, it’s a tricky game,”Nizam’s uncertain.

“We’ve beaten Pakistan and even the Kangaroos,” she recalls, confident.

“Let’s see,” Nizam murmurs and yells as Mushfiqur Rahim hits a six off a delivery from Pandyan who ultimately spells death for the Tigers in the last over.

Now it’s the last over, and Bangladesh needs only 11 off it. Nizam kisses Bithi in excitement oblivious of their being in the crowd. Their first ever kiss goes unnoticed as every eye is on the field.

“Haven’t I told you we’ll win? Now see,”Bithi’s excited.

“Wait, you cannot tell,”Nizam says in bated breath.

Mushfiqur brought the target down to just two runs off the last three balls with two fours and one single.

“Have you still doubt?” Bithi asks her paramour.

“It may go anyway,”Nizam replies to the annoyance of the girl with his focus on the 22 yards between the wickets.

“O-u-t!’ the scream goes ringing. Mahmudullah’s out. Now the last ball will be the decider - Bangladesh needs 2 to win, India 1 to remain in the competition.

“Bithi’s bumped into a hard reality. What to happen!” she whispers to Nizam who doesn’t hear.

“No-o-o! We’ve been foolhardy.Fie on us!” Nizam’s cathartic.

                       Bithi cries and leans on Nizam.Even the first mutual touch takes time for them to stir up as the galleries are getting deserted quickly. Chinnaswamy sees the beauty of a spell of romantic love in the euphoria of victory and the melancholia of being trounced when victory has been 1+1 sprints of 44 yards only. This still picture’s the reality of life. This happens. Cricket reflects the truth that we’ve to run after what’s often elusive. We succeed when failure doesn’t pull us back.

                       Bithi and Nizam come out of the stadium heads down. They cannot come to terms with the reality. Were they flying to reach the horizon, which moves away perpetually, and failed? We cannot keep pace with the movement. We may scale unreachable height, cover unimaginable distance in a flight of imagination but have to bump back to reality. The two foolish children are yet to come out of the stupor. They reach the Oberoi unaware of each other even when their two hands are joined. Back to the room, they sit face to face on the sofa, speechless. The silence breaks when Bithi says, “You’re right Nizam. Now understand we cannot tell what’s ahead.”

“Cricket tells the story of life, of uncertainties.”

“Everything in life resembles a taper, isn’t it?” Bithi says, philosophically.

“Hope’s like that.”

“We shouldn’t hope, I think”

“Then we shouldn’t use taper also,” Nizam reasons.

“Won’t we have lunch, dear?”Bithi responds to her impulse.

                         Nizam slowly and reluctantly rises and proceeds to bathroom. After a cool shower comes back fresh with a sad smile hovering over the soft face.Bithi’s sponged her face and neck. Only soup has been ordered. They know the shock has taken away their appetite. Hunger for victory has been a strong emotional urge which is dashed, and it’s a shock like the one the passengers have when a ferry boat which successfully has negotiated the turbulent river during a storm sinks near the bank.

Having the first sip, Nizam murmurs,” We won’t have remorse. We played and dominated but rocked the boat just before mooring.”

“We couldn’t match their cool planning and maturity,” Bithi’s back to her analytical power.

“We shouldn’t try to exhibit glory before it’s achieved,” Nizam vents anger.

“Means?” Bithi wants to know.

“Why, Mahmudullah went for glory, hit two consecutive deliveries high in the air though playing them on the ground would have been enough. That sealed our fate,” Nizam explodes.

“Okay, the flight is at 4.30 a.m. We should go to bed.”

 They kiss and go to sleep. The two are now in dream spurred by the kiss. Two angels hover over them.

“Will this love endure?” one angel raises the question to Nizam.

“He represents the lack of confidence of your players in crucial moments,” the other angel whispers to her.

“She’s too emotional,” pours the first angel into the ear of Nizam.

“”Too much reason causes indecision,” says the second angel.

                     The dream has goaded them into fear and an embrace. But they cannot kiss any more. The game with its thrill is over. Gone is the stupor. But it has aroused questions in the mind of the lovers as leftovers of their varying shades of emotional responses during the match. Each of them analyses the response of the other. She recalls, Nizam has said,” Cricket reflects the truth that we’ve to run after what’s often elusive.” Bithi cannot forget it. She knows love’s an emotion which doesn’t tally with reason.( Continued on 7th May 2016)

Kill You,Sure 13

           Kill You, Sure (13)

                                        Nidhu Bhusan Das

   

         “Lunch time.Won’t you have food?” Ankit’s uncertain.

          “Your Green Eye’s lousy.I hate her,”Divya’s terrible.

          “But…”

          “Hang your buts.You’re infatuated with her,”Divya’s furious.

         “Believe me,I’ve…”

         “Where had you been?Enjoying  while she’s teasing me?Strange!”Divya begins sobbing.

          Anik hasn’t been  there to allow the two girls space for one-to-one exchange so that misgivings,if any could have been over.He couldn’t anticipate this fallout.

          “I cannot believe Green Eye has done it.Divya must have been rude to her.The way she greeted her cannot please anybody,”he thinks but wouldn’t let her know his mind.

           “Well Ankit, help me get to the room?”

            “I’ll,but what about lunch?Won’t have food?I’m really hungry,”Ankit says.

             “I ain’t hungry.I may accompany you to the dhaba,”she says,relenting.

              He understands and says, “Let’s go.”

              They trudge towards the dhaba.All along Divya has used expletives against Bithi.He has listened,nodding. He understands it’s unwise to intervene when jealousy’s the ruling passion of a girl-in-love.

              “I’m really damn hungry,seems a monster’s in revolt in me.”

              “I know,dear.The green eyes makes your eyes look so hungry.A man,indeed!”Divya’s sarcastic.

               “Beauty envies Beauty,”Anik comments and presses her right hand.

               “And you tilt to the exotic beauty,” she alleges.

               “Your fiction saddens you.”

               “ I didn’t know you have such a fertile mind.”

                Anik takes two lunch-packets and heads towards to lonely banyan under which he performs pranayam     every morning.Divya follows him.Is it the banyan attracts her or the man? Maybe,she has an excuse.She begins to murmur praise of the tree.Ankit smiles as he opens the lunch packets.

He understands.She sits in front of him when asked as obedient as a child.He spoons the first morsel into her mouth.Swallowing it,she says in a tone of simulated anger, “I won’t eat.”

“I know you have reason to be angry.That girl is innocent…”

“Innocent!You mean it,Ankit,really?”

“Her innocence is a serpent,”he suggests and gives her the second morsel which she consumes without any grumbling.

“Ankit,you like serpent?”

“I’m scared of one.”

“Seen one?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In front of the library here today.”

“Don’t be silly dear,”she entreats,her eyes shining lovingly.

“You had a long tryst with that.”

“Is it?How?”she asks tenderly.

“Didn’t you have a session with her on the green carpet?”

“So naughty!She’s a nice girl,polite and intelligent.”

“I see,you’re enamoured of her and assume I’m your rival.”

“Ankit, it’s insulting.You mean I’m a lesbian.”

“I only mean serpent.Open your packet,have the lunch.You aren’t a child that I should feed you.”

“Not a child indeed,more than that. Don’t you love me?”

“Should I notify the whole world?”

“Can’t we kiss at least?”

“Not here,now.”

“When an where,” Divya’s persuades.

“Somewhere when we be free.”

“Pardon.”

“Free from doubt and suspicion.”

“You have doubt,Ankit?”

“You’re in doubt,you suspect,”Ankit’s categorical.

“No Ankit,I have just prevented.I believe you.”

“Prevented what?”

“The serpent.”

“You mean?”

“Green Eyes.”

“You mean I’ll have a second crush,isn’t it?”

“I know,Ankit,you’ll have no more crush.”

“Okay,let’s go,” says Ankit and motions towards the secluded corner.Divya takes his hand.Green Eyes no longer haunts her.She knows she’s on the threshold,time to be pulled into.(continued on 24 March 2016)

Kill You,Sure(12)

           Kill You, Sure (12)

                                        Nidhu Bhusan Das

       


         Fresh from the celebration of the Language Martyr Day in Dhaka Bithi's back.It's spring.The deep red Polash well synces with the blood of the martyrs.Spring is short-lived in Delhi.It isn't as in Ireland either,ruminates Bithi,leaning against the wall of the desolate library as the JNU campus seethes.Students are restless,teachers grieve.A centre of excellence and cradle of free thinking,the university has seen a popular student leader picked up by the police on charge of sedition.This is unusual,Bithi has heard the refrain in the campus.
      "Hi!green eyes,"Divya greets Bithi, in earnestness,tinged with a subtle sarcasm.
Bithi's taken aback at the suddenness of it from one she never interacted with,rather saw her to browbeat when came face to face in the library once in a while. Well,she doesn't take time to get away from the initial shock and smiles back:"How are you?"
Divya hasn't expect it but smartly says with Hariyanvi pride,"Fine and you?"
"Cheerful,chum," replies Bithi with Irish-Bangla grace,smile in the eyes.
    Anik looks on,a mischievous smile hovering over his face.He enjoys that Divya's outsmarted.The smile irks Divya who wants to keep him away from Bithi.Her frown force-stops the smile.
      "Let's go sit on the green bed,"Bithi suggests and moves towards the lawn,taking the hand of Divya.Bithi feels Divya dislikes her because she doesn't have green eyes.
     "Chum,had I brown eyes!"Bithi feigns a sigh.
     "Then!Yes,I'm right.She's tender to Ankit. Brown eyes!She means it,really.Ankit,I'll show you..."she thinks,dazed. Beads of sweat have appeared on her forehead as her brown eyes have redened and shells out sparks of anger.
      "Chum,you're sweating...it isn't sweat-hot,feel sick?" Bithi's serious.
      "No, am alright.Ankit's a fool," Divya pours out her frustration with a long sigh.
       "Let me take you to the hostel," Bithi offers and asks,"Where's your friend,who's Ankit,dear?"
        Divya can no longer hold out and with a sad smile retorts,"Who's Ankit ! As if you don't know!"
        "Jealousy,you're gf,maybe Ankit's her bf.She doesn't believe him,only wants to possess him,"Bithi tries to understand and
exclaims,"Strange!"and keeping her usual cool drawls,"I am not aware of any Ankit in the campus,dear."
        "Ain't a fool,you know.He often tells of green eyes,there's none other than you,he means,in the whole campus,"Divya says in a breath.
        "Is it? I don't have any relation with anyone,won't like to have one," she snarls and repeats the offer to help her to the hostel.
        "Green Eyes,please be away.Let me be alone and have peace of loneliness.I know my place,I can go it alone.Thanks this is a lot for offer to help.I understand it's better for you to help yourself.Perhaps,you need it most now.Decide on An...okay let I be alone,"says Divya,as if in a reverie.
      "The girl's a fool,extreme possessiveness is the cause,"Bithi says to herself,a sweet smile shines on her pomegranate lips.She withdraws,goes her way,sad that the girl suffers from unfounded suspicion,not because she suspects her."The boy's meek,being effeminate, amenable to emotional pressure," Bithi tries to understand.
        On her way to the library,Bithi sees the boy lurking behind a neem tree.Maybe,he has been waiting for her to leave Divya to avoid embarrassment."Is it,he has a secret tender feeling to her,and,therefore,has been unable to face the gf in her presence,"thinks Bithi as she moves on.She decides she would leave for the US sooner than planned earlier if the situation in the campus deteriorates.She remembers her grandparents are preparing for the grand celebration of their conjugal life.She's going to play a role in the event.The thought has rejuvenated her.(continued on 2 March 2016)