Sunday, August 16, 2009

Chapter ^

6. a

I woke up early in the morning. I like waking up early after a drunk night. It’s a different freshness. A revelatory sort of freshness. Like you are seeing the life in a new light. But if we wake up early once in a blue moon, the light does anyways seem like a new light because we are not used to seeing the early morning light.

Alcohol had relaxed me enough already. So I didn’t feel like lying in the bed. I stood up and went to the basin. Our other drink mates were still lying around drunk. I felt like walking through an ambushed battalion, with my dead soldier friend all around me. Viet war movies filled in the head. I miss a gun in my hand and a helmet. I put an empty bowl on my head and pick up a toothbrush. I shoot Viet guerrillas with it and then put a paste on it, thrusting it in my mouth.

I have an urge to go to the terrace and brush my teeth. Its fun to spit on the road next to the house. Then through the day, the stains remain there. And you can remember your act of valour throughout the day, whenever you pass by the gate.

I walk up the stairs and the series of incidences from last night flicker before me. It’s just been one night, but it seems like days passed by. I entered the terrace door, in a lot relaxed manner than I did last night. I won’t find a clash here today. It wouldn’t belong to two frustrated lovers fighting over a girl. It will all be mine. I will bask in the haze of the morning sun. Listen to the chirping of early riser birds. I will brush my teeth in their rhythm.

I walk across the wall which separates the door from the terrace area. Something catches my eye. I turn around to see what it is. I move back in a mild shock. Piyush lies there with a bottle of Old Monk in his hands. Drunkards crash position. Which clearly means he has been sitting here and drinking all night long.

“Maa chudi!!!” I exclaim and walk to him.

“Piyush….gaandu…uth…wake up…go and sleep on the bed…..chal…” I wake him up.

He mumbles something and turns to his other side.

“Abey gaandu uth….come on….dont sleep here….chal…my bed is empty….chal…” I try again.

“Let me die here….I am a traitor!!” He says clear enough to understand and passes out again.

“Give me this shit later…..stand up first…” I say trying to pick him up.

“Noooo…I want to die here…” He said shaking my hand off and slipping down on the floor.

I was fed up by his senseless attempts to stay smashed. I had to take strong measures to bring him back to his senses. I looked around for options. I saw the Sintex water tank.

I picked him up by his arms and pulled him to the tank. He was out of his senses again by now. I rested him on the edge of the tank. It was almost like puling the carcass of a dead animal.

I pushed him a bit further and brought his face to the mouth of the tank. I opened the lid and assured that there was enough water in it. The assurance inspired me and I dipped his head in the cold water and held it there for a few seconds, till he struggled and withdrew himself from the water and my grip. He fell back pushing me away and lied down coughing. He sat up and rinsed his nose lazily. I went to pick him up again. He pushed me aside. I held him tight next time and dragged him to the tank.

He jumped away. We both fell aside.

“Maar daalega kya gaandu?….want to kill me?” He said heaving heavily.

“You said you want to die…” I said staring at the sky. It felt good to lie down again.

“Yes….kill me!” He said firmly.

I rolled over and grabbed his throat. He held my hand and pushed me away.

“What happened bugger?....die now na…” I asked laughing aloud.

He didn’t reply.

“Nobody accepts death so easily dude…everybody fights against it….not as an intention…but as an impulse… this impulse is life…the fight to be alive….rest all are just words…bekaar ki bakchodi!” I said looking at him.

“No….I have to die…people like me should…” He replied in a tone of grave self pity.

“What has gone into you fucker?....this sad ass shit??!....”

“I am a traitor….”

“No fucker…You are not!!” I shout on him.

“But…” He is about to present a counter argument.

“But what?” I cut it.

“I am a traitor…I shouldn’t live…”

“Fuck you…..You are wrong…stop thinking this shit!!!....nothing’s gonna move if you think this….Chutiya saala!!...If you keep thinking like this, you will have nothing left in your hands….she will go away with someone else….and you will have nothing with you….except this….this shitty thought!!” Perfect threat, perfect thought.

He didn’t turn.

“I think you are scared…” I played my next card. “Fattu saala!!….Don’t be a coward fucker!!...Fattu mat ban Bhenchod!!”

“Fattu nahi ban raha hoon….arey woh Harshad hai…apna dost….he’s our friend….how can I stand against him at all…It’s better to stay alone than do such a thing man…..This is not about cowardice…this is about the trust he had in me which I broke…” He said pitifully.

“You didn’t break any trust….tell me one thing…..Do you love Shamita?” I asked him the most easiest of question with the most complicated anticipation process.
He stayed silent for some time then answered…

“Yes!”

There he was! I got him in the trap.

“You have all your answers here!” I said in a tone of finality.

“Nope…” He blurted out promptly. “I have all my questions staring here…”

“Then I can’t do anything for you my friend….I am sorry” This was the last weapon I had saved for such times.

Piyush was shaken. He leaned on the though that, whatever be his confusion, I would be there to sort it out. And my backing out from this effort was his sure destruction. All his qualms were based on this faith. And I had shaken it from the base.

“No Anay….please don’t say this…please help me!!....please tell me what to do!!”
I turned and looked at the sky silently and began brushing my teeth. I had to brush them in the rhythm of the chirping sounds of late riser birds.



(Contd.)