A maple
leaf was flaunting its beauty while carelessly floating above the barren land
as if the air was blowing only for her. Soon a gust of wind defied her delusion
and took her miles away. Deb was standing in the middle of a barren land. He
looked towards the sky, the piercing sun-rays almost blinded him; he closed his
eyes and looked down. Rats were coming out of the cracks in the ground. He was
scared; beads of sweat started glistening on his forehead. Numerous rats
were popping out and were moving as if on cue in the same direction. He started
running towards that direction. At a distance, Tisca was pegged to the ground.
With loud squeak, the rats were wildly running towards her. She was shouting.
She was crying. She was unsuccessfully trying to free herself. A few meters
away from her, the rats stopped and made a circle around her. The squeaking
died. Cracks started to appear in the ground around her. The earth started to
cave in taking her inside. He was just a few yards away from her but he fell on
the ground. His face was smudged with sweat, sand, and blood. He stretched his
hands to grab her but earth had swallowed her entirely. He shouted.
Completely
drenched in sweat, Deb woke up. This wasn’t the first time and definitely not
the last, he woke up to such a nightmare. He pressed his eyes with his palm and
then looked towards the side table. Tisca’s picture was missing. He jumped out
of the bed and strode towards the door. He held the doorknob but stopped. He
turned back and leaned against the door. Covering his face with his palms, he
sat on the floor with his back rubbing with the door leaving sweat marks on it.
He understood his mother’s intention; she wanted to reduce his pain.
Two hours
later, he was standing in front of Tisca’s house. He lifted the latch of the
iron gate of the compound wall.
‘Fatto,
don’t make so much of sound.’
His eyes
searched for her, but she was not there, her voice was echoing inside his brain.
He trudged
towards the main door.
‘Can you
just walk a bit faster?’
This time
he didn’t try to look around. He knew; she was gone.
He
hesitantly lifted his shaking hand to press the calling bell. He was not sure
if he should have come to her house on this specific day. He had debated it for
a long time. She would be disappointed, but he was helpless. An invisible
string was continuously pulling him.
“Deb! How
are you?” Her mother opened the door and asked, though she knew how he was. He
didn’t reply. He entered the house like a stranger - nervous. “Would you like
to have something to drink?”
“Water.”
He said. His throat was already dry.
“You sit
here ...”
“No I will
be sitting in her room.” He interrupted her and started walking towards Tisca’s
room.
Will he be
able to tolerate the emptiness inside the room? He paused before opening
the door and took a deep breath. The clack of the doorknob echoed inside his
ear.
Except for
the smell escaping from the room, everything else had her imprint. The three
teddy bears, her buddies, were sleeping on the bed. Perhaps they
shared more secrets with her then he did. They must be missing her as well.
Her mother
entered with a glass of water; even she looked around as if she had entered the
room after a long time.
“When are
you going back to Bhubaneswar?... You have to start afresh.” She said while
handing over the glass. Her eyes started brimming. “This atmosphere won’t help
you.” She turned back hiding her tears and left the room.
He kept the
glass on the side table and looked around the room once again. His eyes stopped
on Tisca’s Picture hanging from the wall. He started caressing the picture. His
hands moved from her forehead till the prominently visible dimples on her
cheek. He kept his hand on the picture and confoundedly stared at her innocent
smile for a few seconds then his eyes fell on the sandalwood garland hanging
from the picture. He started shivering, unleashing the barrage of his eyes.
Deb, fat
extra-infused and calmness redefined, fathomed the world as one large family
where love can conquer anything. Tisca, an ambitious and self-conscious beauty,
believed that love is a madness that spoils relationships. Irrespective of
their startling differences, they were names synonymous to each other among the
people who knew them. They were friends as far as the memory could go back in
the past. Everybody believed that they were a couple made for each other and a
romantic angle would be a natural progression of their relationship. This belief
was partly fuelled by Deb’s own acceptance on many occasions but her stubborn
attitude towards romance was a hindrance; after all, she was brought up by a
single mother.
Her
attitude never affected him; his love for her grew with every passing day. Though
he never made his feelings evident, his eyes at times defied him in front of
her. But, she had confined herself within a shield where she was not allowing
the ray of love skim through. She was a big fan of Shahrukh Khan, but she
skipped watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, every time it was aired on TV,
because it showed friendship culminating into a romantic relationship.
She also knew that, of late, Deb didn’t like her calling him Fatto, somewhere
even she disliked, but a change of reference would have revealed her soft
core. But, for how many days could she be able to pretend to be so strong
against the change?
Fatto, there
is a story behind this name as well. Tisca never called Deb by his name.
Initially, she used to call him just ‘F’. When they grew up and became
aware of the most famous ‘F Word’, she was ashamed but non-apologetic,
she started searching for the name replacement and among ‘Fatty’ and
‘Fatto’, she chose ‘Fatto’, the last letter ‘O’ symbolising his round shape.
Like
many middle-class teenagers, Deb was burdened with his father’s dream
to become an engineer. He never complained but his only wish was to get an
eligible rank in the entrance exam to get admission into NIT Rourkela, because
she being the sole support system of her mother, Tisca would never leave
Rourkela.
But,
destiny had other plans, Deb couldn’t get admission into NIT, Rourkela and even
though he vehemently opposed he was forced by everybody including her to join
CET, Bhubaneswar. Tisca got admission into NIFD, Rourkela.
“Will you
miss me?” Deb asked. It was the penultimate day before Deb would leave
Rourkela. They were sitting in Tisca’s room.
“Hey,
Fatto, don’t be so senti now.” Tisca replied without looking into his
eyes. Perhaps, she was more disturbed.
When her
father left her mother for another woman, Tisca was just twelve years old. Her
mother could never come out of that shock; she could never provide the mental
support a girl of that age needs. The society, instead of supporting them,
raised numerous questions. People having questionable intentions would raise
concern about the survival of the family without a man. It was during that
time, standing at the gate of adolescence, Deb had said with maturity and
firmness, “I am the man in your family.” Tisca never forgot those words.
Perhaps, she was in love with him since then, but her mother’s face,
expressionless yet the courses of tears cutting across her face reflecting her
broken interior, on the morning when her father left, remained adrift in
Tisca’s eyes for a long time. She had lost faith on relationships.
At the age
when the mind weaves fantasies, Tisca was facing the cruel reality of the
apathetic world. She could find support only from Deb and he gradually became a
habit. Now, he was going away. Amidst the fear of losing the balance in her
life, she was still projecting a strong face in front of him. So, when he stood
in front of her with his arms stretched apart for a hug, she ignored him. It
wasn’t the first time they would have hugged, but she was worried that a hug
would have disturbed the balance even more.
Even
though Deb was insisting not to attend the cricket match of the Sector
Tournament, she forced him to join, only to avoid longer interaction with him.
Though he agreed when she promised that she would watch the match, he wasn’t
happy.
“Fatto,
can you really run?” She teased to lighten the situation, just before the match
was about to start.
“What’s
the need to run when you can hit sixes?” He replied with swallowed chest.
“Oh,
really. Dont try to impress me with hollow talk.”
“Hollow
talk? You have seen me play earlier as well.”
“But,
those were against the kid of our own Sector. Look at these guys.” She said
pointing toward the bowlers of opposite team practicing near the boundary.
“Okay
then, you sit... there.” He said pointing towards the longest boundary. “I
assure you, six balls would give salami to you by landing near your
feet.” She smiled and started moving towards that direction. “But, what will I
get in return?” Her smile widened but she continued walking. Deb instructed one
of his teammate to sit near her as a protection in case a ball comes directly
towards her.
Eighth
ball that he faced landed on the right of Tisca. After that, at regular
intervals, he hit four more sixes with such a precision that his friend didn’t
move a inch. The balls landed at safe distance including the sixth one but the
sixth ball hit a pebble and changed its direction, even his friend wasn’t
expecting it. He unsuccessfully tried but the ball hit her on her temple. She
fell unconsciously on the ground and remained unconscious until Deb arrived,
rested her head on his lap, and sprinkled water on her face.
“You won.”
She said after opening her eyes. Deb nodded. “I had never thought that you
would vent your anger like this.” She continued with a smile. He was scared
with the swelling of her temple. He took her to Hospital. The doctor gave some
medicine with strict instruction that in case of nausea or loss of vision, she
should immediately visit a doctor. Deb cancelled his ticket, stayed in Rourkela
for three more days, and then left for Bhubaneswar only after the swelling
vanished and Tisca affirmed that she was perfectly all right. The love and care
in his eyes during those three days initiated the corrosion of the shield
around her.
The
initial days of separation didn’t hurt much. They were busy in their early
settlement issues. Both had to pass through the ragging procedure, but the
severity and the complexity were completely different. On one side, Deb had to
go through a lot of physical torture; Tisca was getting a lot of attention in
the institute. Seniors were turning up in batches only to talk to her. Soon,
the realisation that they haven’t seen each other for more than 3 months crept
in. The desperation to meet each other was becoming unbearable. Unlike him, she
never expressed her feeling, but the shield around her had evaporated; a bit of
its reminiscence that might have still existed would vanish during the Durga
Puja holidays, when Deb would be in Rourkela for a few days.
Deb had
initially planned to surprise Tisca by knocking at her door early morning, but
his big tummy couldn’t hold the excitement of meeting her after so many days.
He called her from the railway station before boarding the train. She was
thrilled, but she didn’t let her voice to give away her feeling. He was
surprised and a bit sad with such a cold response.
Deb had a
typical habit. In every railway station, he would check his weight. Perhaps, he
always believed that one day he would find a correct machine that would show
his correct weight, otherwise, all those machines currently installed at
various stations were faulty, showing his weight on the higher side. Before
boarding the train in Bhubaneswar, he had checked his weight but when he saw a
weighing machine in Rourkela station, he couldn’t control himself. He stepped
onto the machine and inserted a one-rupee coin.
“Fatso,
have some mercy on that machine, it’s for humans, not dinosaurs.” Even before
the shining multi-colour circles would have stopped and a ticket would have
popped out, her voice sent ripples under his skin. He turned back and jumped
off the machine. He forgot that he was in the crowded railway station; he took
two steps forward and hugged her. Words ceased to exist, the past shrunk and
the memories extraneous to their togetherness evaporated. Those few seconds
compensated for the hiatus of the last three month. Even she was holding him
tightly for a few seconds before realising the sensitivity of the place.
“Deb,
let’s go out from here.” She said. He broke the embrace, looked into her eyes
and smiled.
“Deb?” He
murmured. He tilted his head and winked. She reciprocated with a smile before
lowering her gaze. This was, perhaps, the first time she had taken his name.
***
“Do you
know why M comes after L.” Tisca said. Tisca had gone to Bhubaneswar for a
seminar. Deb forced her to skip the evening session and took her to Puri on his
bike. Both of them were sitting on the sand in Puri beach.
After
their embrace in the railway station, they didn’t talk to each other for two
days, and then he went to her house, a bit scarred, a bit shy, even he couldn’t
understand why it was so different that day to enter the same house he had
visited thousands of time in the past. Even she fluttered with words. Confused
but a bit satisfied, Deb left Rourkela three days later. Even after many
lengthy phone calls during the four months that followed, they were yet to tell
the magical three words to each other, yet their relationship had grown beyond
such verbal expression.
“Have you
gone mad? What kind of question is that?”
“That is
exactly what I am saying. See when you are in love, Madness naturally follows
it, which is why M comes after L.” She said in a childlike tone. Deb smiled.
This was the first time the word love was mentioned in any of their discussion.
He looked at her, tilted his head, and winked.
“You know
the world is same. Nothing has changed around us. Nothing at all. Wind, clouds,
rains, land... Isn’t it?” She entwined her hand, and rested her head
against his shoulder and said. “But now-a-days, everything’s so different; the
wind whistles your name in my ear, I can see the clouds making your face in the
sky, the rains... I used to hate rains you remember, but now I enjoy, I like
going out and feel the drops falling on my skin, I... I feel like you are
touching me.” She tightened her grip around his arm. “The drops falling on the
land play a melodious chorus, as if they are celebrating our love.” She
paused for some time, then raised her head and looked inside his eyes and said,
“Has the world really changed?”
“How can I
see anything else?” Deb replied with a husky voice. “You are always there in
front of my eyes.” A few strands of hair came out of her ponytail and started
swaying across her face. He pushed the hair behind her ear and pulled her face
towards him. She showed token resistance. Just before their breaths entangled,
she closed her eyes. What followed next was a passionate kiss, their first kiss.
While
Tisca was boarding the bus to return to Rourkela, Deb gave her a few sweet and
sour, black candies, her favorite. She put one candy in her mouth and started
chewing. Suddenly as if some kind of realization dawned upon her, she paused
and said “Life is like this candy. It is sweet at this moment, it will be sour
some other time.”
“You are
thinking too much. It will remain sweet... always.” Deb said and kissed her on her
forehead.
***
While they
were kissing on the beach that day, they didn’t have the slightest of the hint
that they would be sitting on the same beach after six months but the situation
would be drastically different.
A
pertinacious sea wave was approaching the shore, this time it would beat its
earlier attempt and reach to the unexplored territory of the shore. It knew
that it couldn’t revolt; it would have to recede and dissolve in the ocean. It
just wanted to spend some extra time with the shore. Even though it was seduced
and exploited by the waves earlier, the shore was waiting once again, its arms
stretched apart with the expectation that this time the wave would not betray.
They met, they moaned, the surf glazed, bubbles popped out of the shore in
celebration. But, once again the wave receded and disappeared. The bubbles died
and the amaranthine wait of the shore continued.
Sitting on
the sand, under the temporary shed made of coconut leaves, Tisca was watching
the waves and shore with her unblinking pale eyes. Deb was sitting alongside,
holding her hand.
“Can we go
back to our friendship days?” She said, irritated, without looking at Deb. “I
don’t like the way our relationship changed.” Ever since the news was out, he
was expecting this. Yes, the news that changed every equation of their
relationship, the news that was kept a secret from him for months and was
revealed accidently after she collapsed during one of their phone conversation.
He could still feel the shivering of her mother’s voice on the phone when she
told that Tisca was suffering from an incurable disease. Deb reached Rourkela
next day. She was admitted in the hospital. “Finally mom told you. She must
have exaggerated.” She had said, but her pale eyes were silently supporting her
mother’s version. Deb could relate that her visit to Delhi a month back with
her mother was actually to AIIMS, which she had claimed to be a Seminar of her
Institute. Deb tried to find out the details about the disease, but he was
ignored by everybody. He was still a kid in the block. For next two months, Deb
made frequent visits to Rourkela and saw her condition deteriorating. It was during
his last visit, she insisted to visit Puri. Her mother protested initially but
gave up expecting some godly intervention, Puri being a holy place.
‘See those
ships there; they are fighting with such a large ocean to remain afloat.’ Deb
said after a moment of silence. ‘The waves are threatening, but they can never
break the determination of the ship.’
“A Tsunami
will not respect these ships.” Tisca looked towards the ships for a moment,
then looked at Deb and said. Her eyes started brimming. She clasped a handful
of sand in her right palm and raised her hand towards Deb. The sand was coming
out of her palm, she tightened the grip, and the sand started coming out
faster. ‘I am loosing it... I ... I don’t want...’ She stopped looking at her
empty hands, and then closed her eyes. A few drops of tears trickled down her
cheeks. He hugged her tightly. All his efforts to control his emotions failed a
bit when a lonely teardrop rolled down. The sun was lost amidst the metal and
concrete of the Puri Town. Slowly abysmal darkness would engulf the sea. The
chanting of mantras emanating from the Swargadwara Crematorium echoed inside
his ears and the sound rose decibel by decibel until he broke down completely
and started crying.
***
Can
somebody plan his own death? No, unless he is attempting suicide. But, for
Tisca, it appeared as if everything was planned. The news of her illness came
to Deb a month after his second semester exam. Surpassing all her pains, she
fought with death for almost five months and when she died, Deb was sitting in
the exam hall and writing his last paper. She had ensured that even though her
illness had crumbled him, he didn’t lose a semester, but she couldn’t hold her
breath for a day more, her last wish couldn’t be fulfilled, she wanted to die with
her head resting on his lap.
Deb wasn’t
informed about her death until he reached Rourkela the next day morning.
He was frozen for a minute after he saw her body, then he collapsed. He
was admitted into the hospital, he would open his eyes in between, indifferent
to the hustling of doctors, nurses and his family around him, he would search
for her face and then he would close his eyes as if he had rejected the meaning
of his own life. On the third day when he opened his eyes, he was handed over a
letter, her last letter for him.
“For F”
The top of envelop carried only this. He kept looking at this for a long time,
then he opened the envelop.
“Hey
Fatto, how’s your exam? I know this is worst question I should have asked at
this time. Anyway, in a few days, Valentine’s Day is coming and the whole world
would be coloured Pink. You remember I hate that Colour. So, I have just one
wish, my last wish. Don’t remember me on that day. I am sure you won’t
disappoint me.
And
remember, first Sunday of August is reserved for me. Wherever you will be, I
will always be there alongside you on that day.
Bye”
Deb cried
for the first time after her death. What she missed understanding was that she
wasn’t his lover or friend anymore, she was his life.
Twelve
days after her death, he was standing in front of her picture. It was
Valentine’s Day.
***
As they
say, time heals all wounds, Deb moved on in the life, yet at every step he
looked back longingly as if he was expecting some miracle, which never happened.
After
completing his engineering, he joined an IT company in Bangalore and only six
months later, he got his project abroad. Before leaving the country for two
years, or perhaps forever, he visited Rourkela. Even though he had spoken to
her mother many times over phone, he never visited her house after that
Valentine’s day. But before leaving the country he wanted to live some moments
with her memories.
He spent
hours inside her room staring at her picture, and then he opened the cupboard
and searched for her blue dress having half sleeve and a bow just above its
chest. It heart achingly revealed her curves. He always protested whenever she
wore that dress, because he wasn’t the only person watching her. He spread the
dress on the bed and then he opened the dresser for a perfume bottle. He took
out the bottle having red cap with a female face carved on it; he had made
dimples on the face by scratching it with a pin. She never discarded that cap.
He sprinkled the perfume on the dress. Lying alongside the dress, he caressed
it for a long time, and then he held the dress tightly between his arms and
cried.
Her mother
knocked at the door, she must have heard him crying. He composed himself,
neatly folded the dress, kissed it, and kept it back in the cupboard. Just
before he was closing the cupboard, his eyes fell on a file hidden beneath
clothes. It was her medical report. So many medical terms, which were difficult
for him to understand, yet he kept on reading. His hands started to tremble
when he reached the bottom of the second page. His eyes stopped on one
line. A head injury, something as innocent and deceptive as a head injury
was what led to Tisca’s death. Wandering in their past, he could correlate only
one incident to the injury. He started to sweat profusely, and then he collapsed
on the floor of her room. Within the confines of the picture frame, Tisca was
still smiling.
very well narrated emotional story
ReplyDeleteThanks cifar ...
DeleteBeautifully written. This could be a book. After reading your story I don't think one should participate in this contest. :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks Richa ... that's a big complement :) ...
DeleteHii,
ReplyDeleteAm here at Blog-A -Ton after a gap of almost ages and am enjoying discovering new blogs. (new to me!)
Yours is almost a novella here. Quite sweetly emotional that left a sour aftertaste from Tosca's demise.
Wish you'd played with more details though overall a great job!!!
ATB
Thanks Vibhuti for the feedback :) wish you had been more specific on the detailing part. Thanks
Deletepretty amazing story..u wove around the concept so well!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Princess :)
DeleteEntered BAT after a long time and getting introduced to newer people and newer writing styles....
ReplyDeleteWell, nicely narrated emotional story. In fact narration and background building were the strongest aspects of this post. The story began well enough but got too lengthy and narrative to retain same level of interest. Also, the narration seemed to go from elite and classy at one point to bourgeois at another. the overall flow, though, was very nice and would the story would have been superb if not this wordy.
Cheers!!!
Read mine at Aashish - Sweet and Sour!!!
Thanks Aashish for appreciation and feedback. I wanted to keep the narration and flow like this to develop the characters properly, looks like I slightly failed in that :)
DeleteWill certainly visit your blog. Thanks again.
This was just too beautiful ... You have woven magic through words ... Soulful piece of writing ! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Parvathy :)
DeleteTisca and Deb, I believe a novella is made here. :D The way you correlated the incidents, romantic moments, sweet and sour, the example of ship, I admire your posts totally :) And if I can select the winner, I would select you. :)
ReplyDeleteSomeone is Special
Thanks SIS... You made my day :) ...
DeleteCongrats Amit on winning BAT! :D
DeleteThat was a very nicely written entry.And a very beautiful way to include the sweet and sour theme.This only make me think If only.
ReplyDeleteAll the best.
Thanks Alcina :)
DeleteLong yet beautifully woven story.!!
ReplyDeleteThe very first entry of BAT i read and see that the quality is so very improved..Awesome post dear..!!
Best Wishes..!
Here's my entry for BAT
Thanks Yamini... Quality has certainly improved :) ...
Deleteawesome post dearie :)
ReplyDeleteBest Wishes..!
Here's my entry for BAT
Thanks again :)
DeleteI think the story was perfectly written! Perfect!
ReplyDeleteAll the best :)
Thanks Megha:)
DeleteI am clean bowled, Amit!! Wowzers!!! ATB for BAT...
ReplyDeleteThanks Panchali di... words like this from you means a lot :) :)
DeleteThanks Panchali di... words like this from you means a lot :) :)
DeleteHey you! My Liebster Blog Award Nominee! :D I am glad to tell you that , I have nominated you for a Liebster Blog Award on my blog.:) Please check out the following link & go through the rules & guidelines for accepting the award.:) http://silentdrizzle-parvathy.blogspot.in/2013/11/my-first-award.html
ReplyDelete