Durga puja went away in a jiffy. When I try to
recall the one long month, I see passing images of lights, friends, food, and
colors.
Happy
month!
But somehow, the quirk and me, we would always keep
in touch. Also, on one of those nights of midnight texts and laughter-inducing
banters, I gave him a nick name, which later I found out, means ‘bacteria that causes food poisoning’.
Weird
happens to be my forte too!
Also, we got so happy, just by conversations, he
later started calling me his ‘happy hormone’.
I returned back to Santiniketan after a month, but
he didn’t.
We would keep calling, each other, usually in the dead
of the night, just to talk about how the day went.
Nyctophilliacs
in synchronization.
One month went away, and one day me and my Kala
Bhavana beat partner, who introduced me to the quirk in the first place, we got
some weed for us.
Enough
for four joints, and more than enough to get us shit high!
There is this place, which happens to top my little
list of the places I find solace in Santiniketan; behind one of the theater
houses, a stretch of land, used by students of painting and sculpture for
practice.
A land, surrounded by abstract sculpture, structures
designed for people to sit, and a half-broken wall, injected with concrete
flowers, which was earlier a stage used by performance arts’ students for
presentation.
Me and my Malayalam partner, we sat there, rolled us
four joints, and had all of them together.
In some time we got to realize the sun was going
down, and we could hardly get up.
All dangerous places are seductive, they say.
This place had no light to guide us in the dark, and
it was a damn long walk to the main road through what you would call a
overgrown forest.
I got up after giving efforts to my head and my legs
for almost fifteen minutes.
The sky was putting out his last bit of light, when
we two high people, unable to grab anything that was happening, walked to the faint
source of the light; streetlamp of the main road that was visible from there.
After walking for what looked like a mile, since
weed messed up our timeline too bad, I realized my partner was not beside me
anymore.
May
be I freaked out, maybe I tried to find my phone which I couldn’t, the last
memory I have is me trying to open the gate to my house, where I hurt my palm
badly. I felt no pain then, only after I was back to my senses, I saw the blood
clot.
At around 9 pm, I woke up in my bed, by a phone call.
The quirk!
“Hey,
I booked my tickets. My train’s tomorrow.” The cheerful voice
and I could imagine that big smile which is his patent.
“So
in three days, you are going to be here?” I was so happy.
“Yes.
Just three more days. Will you come to the train station when I reach?”
“Can’t
wait to hug you a welcome.” I cut the call, and hummed a
little happy song.
In three days, he was back.
Struggling with his two huge luggage, came out of
the platform, searching. I was standing right in front.
I hugged him a welcome, and we started walking.
Station happens to be a half an hour walk from the
place where we wanted to go, and only midway, we came to realize, we were so
busy in conversations, that we forgot to get ourselves a transport. Apparently he
has shifted to a place, which was in my locality; I mean just the lane almost
opposite to mine.
We came to his place, dusted things, made him settle
down, and he came to drop me off to my place.
That goodbye for just the night, I tell you, was the
most confusing one.
I wanted to shake his hands, and he came closer for
a hug.
Finally,
we laughed and settled for the hug.
To
be continued…
