Tuesday, 22 August 2017

Bolpur Blues: Episode 8

The night closed on us; the quirk, me, Cohen and two pair of lips occasionally and unreasonably touching at times.

None of us knew why we had the sudden urge to just stare at each other and kiss, but the evening returning birds’ chirps, the dusk coming down, and the trees swinging in the rhythm of the music, had some effect; It had to have some effect.

Can I trust you with staying here?’ I cleared my throat, lighting a cigarette.

Let’s do the bond thing that people does when they are not sure?’ He smiled, still holding my left hand softly within his.

I broke the embrace and found two little paper pieces. I wrote in both of them how he has to stay back, or else he owes me compensation for all the kisses we had for the day.
He signed in both and kept the piece of paper inside his wallet, in the same counter where he kept his parent’s picture.

This paper is as important as them now, I guess.’ He smiled while staring at his parents, and putting the paper inside the space he made in his wallet.

I didn’t find words to give a reply to that; all I knew we have started off something that would go on for long.


Apparently we ran out of smokes, and I needed a tea.

So we got out, for both.


The nearby market is something that has always made me feel good. People, lights; no matter how less they were, were still better than the cruel dark lanes on just the opposite side. And perhaps the best part of it was, it was halogen-lit mostly; the yellow hue is always good after a long day of songs and kisses.

Warmth and winter are sinfully done seductive juxtapositions.

We had a long dark lane to cover, and midway I couldn’t feel my hands already.

No matter how beautiful the winter in Santiniketan is, it is also a little cruel to people at night; when you don’t have the warmth of the sun to back you up.

He had a rugged coat on his body, and I was rubbing my hands to help with the warmth thing.

He stared at the sky, and pointed to me the plethora of stars. I pointed to him the North Star bright in the star-crowded sky, and suddenly, he took my right hand and put it inside his coat’s pocket.

‘That will help your hands stay warm, at least till you get the tea in your system.’ He said, still looking at the stars and walking.

I stared at him, my mind blank, while he stared up at nature’s dotted graphiti.

I asked him, irrelevant, wrongly placed. ’What are we?’

He took some time. ‘Lovers?’


Neither of us spoke for a while.





To be continued...