Experiences of a common man!

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Satya tensed after listening to what he did while hallucinating

Satya-Part Five: Am I hallucinating?

Life has become better since I have stopped hallucinating. The doctor has stopped my medicines. He is worried I might suffer from another disease because of the weight I have gained.

Although I don’t have a job yet, I am feeling more confident. The interview I had taken the other day had gone well. The executives trusted that I would be able to cope with the work pressure. Meanwhile, I am taking Kalpana on a date today. We have distanced each other for so long that I think I need to make some effort to keep her happy. She is watching her favourite TV show. I block her view and say, “Do you want to go out on a date?”

Her eyes glow. I continue, “I don’t have a job yet, but who knows if I can give you enough time.”

Kalpana’s eyes tear up, which she wipes quickly. She stands up, hugs me, and asks. “What’s the plan?”

“Let’s see.” Pretending that I am reading a list, I say, “The first on the list is to go to a movie. Then taste some new food and come back.”

“It’s a simple one,” she says.

Isn’t she happy? What can I add to the plan? I’m worried.

“But I approve.”

I am relieved. Kalpana then opens the wardrobe, takes out half a dozen saris, and asks me to choose one from among them.

“Wear whichever you want,” I say.

“Don’t say that. Select one. I’ll wear whichever you choose.”

I pick a blue sari with beautiful golden flowers. Kalpana pouts. “I knew you’d choose this.”

“Oh, did you? So you know I’d make a terrible choice.”

“What? No! You don’t make terrible choices. I trust you.”

“After all that has happened?”

“Umm.” She nods.

Before we leave, Kalpana puts a pocketknife in her favourite handbag.

“Why did you put that pocketknife?” I asked.

“It will come in handy in case we buy some fruits.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you scared?” Kalpana asks.

“No,” I reply with a smile. “Why should I be afraid when you’re with me?”


We hurry and get into a microbus. “No motorcycle.” I had said because I had wanted to walk with her, looking into her eyes whenever I pleased. We go to a theatre on the top of a mall. The movie is alright in bits, but it’s a disappointment. Still, we sit all through the movie holding hands and hugging each other in the darkness.

We dine at a restaurant nearby. The food is delicious, and the live music is enjoyable. I ask for the band to sing a romantic song, dedicating it to Kalpana. To my surprise, they sang it so well—almost the same as the original.

The night had ripened when we left for home. Microbuses were no longer available. I wanted to hire a taxi, but Kalpana said, “Let’s walk.”

“But it’s a long walk. Almost an hour. And it’s dark in most places.”

“Are you scared of the dark?”

“No, I’m not,” I try to sound brave.

“Okay. Anyway, I don’t have to worry when I’m with you, Satya.”

We walk hand in hand, talking about the things we like—just like the time we were in love years ago. We talk about philosophy, religion, books, sports, movies, music, and so on. We sing and dance on the street. Finally, everything has become all right.

Is this happiness an illusion, though? I feel a strange tingle when we arrive at a dark street almost five minutes from home. It is a familiar street that cared for me while I was learning to walk with my parents. In this street, I used to burst into laughter when I kicked my friends, and then they came after me. The flowers on its sides had also bloomed the day I had first found love with Kalpana. But now, it seems unfamiliar. It feels uncaring and gloomy and smells not of flowers but of death and rot.

“What are you thinking, Satya?”

I turn around. Kalpana’s gait has changed. She seems to be mocking me. “What happened, Satya? There is always something going on in your head. What’s bothering you?”

Her voice is not the usual soft melody. It has changed into the vile tone—the one she used to have when she wanted to kill me. All of a sudden, she leaps at me. I dodge and slap her hard. She staggers. I hit her again and again until she drops on the cold pitch. I smirk, seeing her getting what she deserved. But she shocks me by getting up, stealing the knife from my pocket, and stabbing me in the stomach. One. Two. Three. “I should have done this earlier,” she whispers. “There is no point in living with a madman like you.”

She runs away as I collapse, waiting for death on the street that smells of death and rot.


I wake up to the sounds of footsteps. Somebody must have called up the ambulance. One of them performs first aid and carries me on a stretcher. One of the four men carrying me was saying, “I don’t want to save this man.”

“Me too,” says another. “Who’d want to help a guy who stabbed his wife, then stabbed himself, and put the knife in his wife’s hand so that it seems like she did the crime?”

The third speaks up, “Thankfully, some people saw him during the action. Otherwise, everyone would have blamed her.”

“I feel for the wife,” the fourth says. “Even when she was losing her consciousness, she was pleading not to do anything to this piece of shit.”

What? Why are they talking about things that have not happened? What happened to Kalpana? Did I really stab her? Fear creeps in. What if they are telling the truth? Will Kalpana forgive me as she has always done? Even if she does forgive me, how am I going to live with the guilt? How can I face my parents and friends? I can’t imagine the shame I have brought to them. I don’t want to live. I’d better be dead… Better be dead!

← Part Four

An image after Satya realises that Kalpana loves him

Satya – Part Four: She Loves Me?

Bright light hurts my eyes. It takes me some time to adapt to it. Have I died? Is this heaven? No, it is not. If I were in heaven, I should not have felt pain. I should have been free. But I can’t even move. I realise that I’m strapped to the bed. The sharp odour of spirit hits my nose. It’s a hospital.

Hospital?

Why am I alive? Kalpana, Chetan, Manas, Dad, Mom, everyone wanted to kill me. They trapped me and injected something in my blood, didn’t they? Yet, I’m still alive! They don’t want to kill me but torture me? Why? Do they enjoy seeing me in pain? How could they stoop this low?

I don’t remember their faces, though. Memories are foggy.

A woman comes into the room. She is wearing a white tunic. She checks my vitals and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel…” I pause for a while. What should I say? Should I be happy for being alive? Or should I feel shit for being strapped? In the end, I said, “I feel nothing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wish I could read all your feelings so that I can heal you.”

I stare at her as the nurse speaks. She looks familiar, but I can’t tell how I know her. The effort I make to remember her exhausts me. My eyes are heavy. I fall asleep before she goes out of the room.

I don’t know how many days, weeks, or months have passed in this white room. I sleep a lot. I am strapped except when I am escorted to the washroom. A small set of staff takes care of me. They are within earshot. They bring me food and medicine and leave nothing behind. The weird thing is that I haven’t seen that nurse again. I have inquired about her, but nobody knows her. I am not sure if the doctor can help me. But how do I ask him?

The doctor scares me. He is gigantic, bald, and has a big moustache. He asks me the same questions in his hoarse voice every day: Who are you? How do you feel? Do you want to meet your family or friends? Had I sustained any injury during childhood? My answers, too, are fixed: I’m Satya; I feel nothing; I don’t want to meet anyone; I had no life-threatening injury during childhood. Before he left, he would ask, “Do you have something to share with me?”

“No,” I said, as always.

He stared at me, and I stared back at him. The more I gazed into his eyes, the more I started feeling that he was not scary. I finally decide to talk. “I want to ask you to know something.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes. It’s important.”

“How long have you been wanting to say it to me?”

“Do you know what I want to ask?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you know, doctor?”

The old doctor strokes his chin. “Well, I’ve heard that you’re looking for a nurse. And that you’ve not found her.”

“So, you know. Why didn’t you do anything?”

He shrugs. “You never asked.”

I don’t buy it. “You could have helped me.”

“Actually, I don’t know how to help you.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know any nurse that entered this room that night. In fact, I had strictly ordered them not to come in.”

“What?”

“I’m curious as well. How did she look?”

“I can’t give you the details, but she felt familiar.”

“Familiar?” He strokes his chin again and murmurs. “Hmm… family? Friend?”

“Hmm. I don’t think so, doctor.”

“I feel she is important to you. I have no idea how I can help you, but I’ll try.”

The doctor has left, but our conversation lingers in my mind. I had denied any connection to my family or friends, but do I really know them? I struggle to recall the faces of my parents and Kalpana. My images of my friends are all blurred. I don’t understand anything. I feel helpless. Fear creeps in, then sadness. I can’t hold my feelings anymore. I bury my face in the pillow and spill out all the emotions in the form of tears.

“What happened, Satya? Why are you crying?”

The voice startles me. It’s that nurse. Still unable to contain my emotions, I wail. She comes closer, sits on my bed, and caresses my hair. She does not say anything until I let go of all my feelings and stop crying. 

“I don’t know… I don’t know anyone… I can’t remember anyone.”

“You will, Satya. You need some rest.”

“How can I rest when I don’t have memories of anyone? How do I rest knowing nobody loves me?”

“Look at me, Satya.”

I can’t look at her. I don’t have the strength to talk to her. But she keeps insisting. I turn around and see her smiling. A comforting smile. Looking into my eyes, she says, “Weren’t you looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you ignoring me when I am here with you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Where have you been?”

“I have always been with you.”

“Hmm… How?”

“I am in your heart, Satya.”

I am perplexed while her smile widens. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“It’s still not the same as being with you.”

“You don’t always need to be with the person you love. All you need to do is to spare a thought for them.”

I have heard that somewhere. Why does this nurse feel close to my heart?

“Because,” she says. “You know me, Satya.”

Is she reading my mind? Who is she?

“You know me, Satya. I’m the one you’ve loved.”

My eyes widen. I recognise her. “You’re—”

“I’m—”

“Kalpana.” We say in unison.

Memories flood into my mind. The faces of my parents became clear. Manas, Chetan, and all my friends smile at me. Kalpana is grinning with them. She looks just like the first time we met. I had been crazy to even think she was going to kill me. I hate myself.

“Don’t hate yourself, Satya,” Kalpana says. “We love you no matter what. You were ill. Now, you’ve become well.”

I am soaked in tears of joy. I sleep peacefully for the first time in who knows how long.

← Part Three

Part Five →

Satya is scared because Kalpana conspires to kill him

Satya – Part Two: She Conspires to Kill Me

Kalpana has conspired to kill me, and her brother, Manas, is her major partner in the conspiracy. I’m sure of it because I heard them plotting against me. We had been to Manas’s place because of some festival (I don’t remember what it was). I woke up in the middle of the night to find that Kalpana was not sleeping beside me. I heard some murmur from another room. The siblings were talking about something. I went closer to the wall and then listened to their conversation.

“Satya has not been treating me well,” Kalpana sighed. “I don’t want to, but I have to stay with him.”

“No one is forcing you to live with him, Kalpana. You don’t deserve him! How many times have I told you that he has a darkness in his heart and that he’ll turn your life into hell? Yet, you don’t want to leave him?”

“Yes, I was wrong. You always said love had blinded me. How did I use to reply? Better be blinded by love than see the things that do not exist.” She sighed. “You were right, Manas. You read his personality better than I ever did.”

“So, what’s stopping you from leaving him? I’ll help you prepare the divorce files. Get him to sign them, and you’ll be free.”

“Satya will never sign those papers.” Kalpana sighed. “He will never let me go away from his life.”

“Is there no other way?”

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

My heart pounded fast. I was drenched in sweat. Should I run away? How? I had to go through Manas’s room. They would not leave me. Would they come to me after their conversation ended? The thought took my sleep away.

Later, when Kalpana came in, I lay in the bed and pretended to sleep. I had hoped that she would complete the job there, but she held my hand. I froze. Her touch was gentle, but my skin crawled. Was this tenderness—or was it the calm before the kill?

“I’ll never fall into her trap,” I promised myself.


But I failed to keep my promise. This evening, I was reading an article about a company when Manas entered my room. He shouted, “What are you doing?”

I turned my laptop towards him and said, “I’m looking for a job.”

“Really? You don’t remember what you did to Kalpana? How can you remain this calm after making her cry?”

Except for that one day—the one I already told you about—I can’t recall any other fight with her. But maybe we did. Maybe it slipped through the cracks of my memory. Or maybe it never happened at all. But maybe we did fight. I remember saying, “You and your brother want to kill me, and I can’t trust you.” But I don’t remember when and where I said that. Was it a dream? Or did it happen in real? What was wrong with it, though? It was the truth. Their truth!

“You don’t need to hide anything from me, Manas.” I said, “I know what you intend to do.”

Manas hesitated for a moment. Then he picked up the laptop and hurled it at me. I dodged it, but he kept throwing pens, notebooks, and bowls that were on the table. Luckily, nothing hit me. I pushed him hard and ran away. His white-clothed goons tried catching me, but I was too swift for them. Kalpana, Dad and Mom also tried stopping me. I flashed past them, too.

I ran with no plan, no destination—just away from the house, away from the trap. But where could I run when my own family was hunting me?

← Part One 

She hates me

Satya – Part One: She Hates Me

I can’t trust her. I want to, but I can’t. How much time have you spent with her? Occasional “Hi” and “Hello,” and a few sips of tea together. Is that enough to know her? I have spent eight years with her. She was my girlfriend before I married her four years ago. I know her better than you do. I have seen her beyond her smiles and sweet gestures. I know she hates me so much that she wants to kill me.

I have a vivid picture of the day she began hating me. That day, job hunting had exhausted me. The interview had gone awkwardly, and I had left before I could make a positive impression. I had slouched myself on the couch and tuned in to a cricket match on TV, but it was so dull that I was falling back to bad memories of the day. She came in, sat beside me, and said, “I saw a handbag while returning home. I wanted it so much, but I didn’t have enough money.”

“I wish I could give you some. But I don’t have much. There are other things to do, too. And my search for a job does not seem to end.”

I sighed. Kalpana said, “Don’t worry, Satya. Everything will be alright.”

“I wish I could get the bag for you.”

“You said that,” she smiled. “It’s more than enough for me. I don’t want it.”

“I wish I could give it to you. A man is supposed to provide, isn’t he? What am I if I can’t even do that?” I covered my face in shame. “I wish I could give you everything you want, but I can’t. I’m sorry I’ve ruined your life, Kalpana. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Satya. You haven’t ruined my life. You have blessed me with your love. I don’t want anything else.” She held my hand and kissed it. “You might not be rich, but you have a good heart. That’s why I love you.”

“I doubt I am a nice man, Kalpana. And… being rich would help, wouldn’t it? Even a job with a small salary would be a blessing. I should not have quit that job. I would not have become a burden upon you and my parents.”

“You’re giving your best, Satya. You left that job because they did not respect you. You’ll find another place where your potential will be better recognised. I’m also earning something by teaching. Baba and Mamu are supporting us. We’re not on the street; we are not dying of hunger. Once you get a job, things will get better.”

“Still, I’m worried. I don’t want to live off your income. And it does not feel right that you’re working while I’m spending your money.”

“Don’t think of it as right or wrong. We’re partners for life, Satya.” She turned my head towards her. “We must support each other. I’m supporting you while you’re at your lowest. You’ll support me when I fall.”

“I’m scared I can’t support you.”

“I know you’re troubled because I’m earning. But if you were earning and I was living off your income, would I be worried? I’d not.”

“Why should you bring that up? It’s a different matter.”

“How is it different? It’s the same. Only the roles have changed.”

“No, it isn’t the same.”

She smiled, albeit with questioning eyes. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her smile transformed into a frown. “I can’t believe you’re saying this, Satya.”

“Well, I’ve said it. You’ve heard it.”

“I never thought your ego would get over you.” She stood up from the couch looking at me with disgust. “I always thought you could control it. But here you are.”

“What’s wrong in saying I want to earn, huh?” I raised my voice. “Why are you making a hill out of a mole?”

“It’s not only about earning, Satya. You need help. You think being a man means never needing help? I know you’re feeling low. But you don’t need to feel that way. I’m here.”

“Yeah, I have been feeling low,” I said, raising my voice, “But you don’t need to remind me. And you can’t do anything to help me.”

“I am just trying to help you.”

“STOP IT, Kalpana! I don’t need anyone’s help. I created the problem, and I will solve it.”

“Why are you screaming, Satya? What have I done?”

I could not stand her voice. I got off the couch and slapped her hard. She looked at me in shock as tears flowed down her cheeks. She then covered her face and started sobbing.

I immediately regretted hitting her and making her cry. I kneeled before her, grabbed her shoulders and said, “I’m sorry, Kalpana. I’m a bad guy, Kalpana.” I caught her hands and made her slap me, “Hit me, Kalpana. I deserve it.”

She pulled her hands and cried even more. I apologized many times. I tickled her and made attempts to talk to her, but she would neither smile nor talk. Furious at her and myself, I kicked the couch and barged out of the room. She did not stop me. I went to the roof and gazed at the stars thinking of the things I had done. I cried for a while. The night breeze helped me cool down. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but when I went back to the room, the lights were on, the TV was running, and on the bed, Kalpana was fast asleep.

We did not talk about it the next day. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s too embarrassing, you know. But I know she still remembers that slap. She hates me. I can see it in her silence. And one day, she will kill me. I’m sure of it.

Part Two →

What’s the Point? (The Last Part)

Pointless

It took me a while to get to the stage, find the CD player and run the CD. Meanwhile, my act grabbed attention of some of the people around. They kept asking what I was doing. I was too overwhelmed to say anything adding to the fact that I was as clueless as they were.

All the chit chats stopped as Bishwas’s recorded voice greeted us. “Good evening, my guests!  First of all, let’s applaud the one who found this recording.”

There was a brief period of silence. “Did you clap?” The voice continued. “I hope you did. If you didn’t, my request has been pointless. You should’ve clapped. You don’t know how fortunate you are to hear my voice. Had nobody cares to look at that target board, you would have left, angry and confused. You’d never have known why you’re here. The time I spent in recording would have been pointless. So, please appreciate the person who made this interaction possible. Let’s give a big round of applause.”

A few people applauded, maybe because they thought they should follow the voice. Most of us were still confused.

“Thank you,” Bishwas’s voice said. “Now, it’s time to let you know why you’re here. You are here to bid me farewell from this world. Yes, you heard that right. A proverb says: “Even if your birth was ordinary, make your death extraordinary.” Extraordinary death! That’s what I am trying to accomplish.

“I’m so sorry for what I am making you witness this evening. I always remained mysterious. Never told everything about my life and feelings. And then I brought you here and literally kept you in dark. Please forgive me.

“I lived a meaningless life, trying to keep everyone happy. But no one ever was. I worked hard in school all through my childhood to keep my parents happy. But they wanted more. I worked harder, just to see them smile. But they didn’t ever truly smile. Their smiles were fake. An act so that I would make more effort in order to kill my childhood.

“I made some friends during my Plus Two days. They celebrated my successes and moaned my failures, without anything else in return. They also introduced me to the entertaining side of life: drinks, smoke, night clubs and dohoris. I met my first love in one of these settings.”

I took a glance at the lady in red dress, paying attention to the words coming from the record. “She was beautiful. I met her a few weeks ago. She has become more beautiful. Her melodies have helped me fill the emptiness my heart suffers from. She kept me happy. Her presence was a blessing. I wanted to be with her forever but it was not to be. My parents once again came on the way of my happiness.

“”We won’t let you marry her,” they said. “She sings at a restaurant at night. Her character is questionable. Besides, she belongs to a lower caste. She can’t be our daughter-in-law.”

“Only I know how hard I tried to convince them. I begged, I cried but their heart did not melt. They threatened to stop paying for my studies. I had a dream to study medicine. Without their financial support, I would not be able to pursue my goal. To keep them happy and to keep my dreams alive, I decided to sacrifice my happiness. I acted like an ass in front of the girl I loved the most and pushed her away from my life.

“I have lived in regret ever since. I could not be with the girl I loved, I could not pursue my dreams and never did my parents become happy. After I failed two rounds of entrance exams, I joined a college. There I made a few friends. One of them thought I was perfect, that I could never make mistakes. I have made mistakes, my friend. I’m so sorry to let you down.”

The Lady looked at me and raised her eyebrows, as if saying, “What did I say?”

It hurt. More than Bishwas’s words. I almost teared up.

Bishwas’s voice was still echoing in the warehouse, “I went up the Himalayas when everything became too much for me to bear. I pulled off all the money from my bank accounts, crushed my phone and SIM and went off radar. I heard of a monastery beyond the Himalayas. I finally found peace.

“But the Lama kept saying that I had not found peace. He said that without facing everyone who suffered because of me, I could not find true peace. Even Buddha had to face his family after returning to Kapilvastu. Although I am nowhere close to Buddha, the Lama advised me to talk to everyone whom I had caused pain.

“I came home and apologized. They said they would not forgive me because of the pain I had given them. If my parents are not forgiving me, I thought, nobody would. What’s the point in living if your parents do not love you, are never happy no matter you do? What’s the point in loving someone, only to remain at a distance from her? What’s the point in getting appreciation from the world when you don’t have a family to celebrate your success?”

Feeling uncomfortable, I looked around. A woman fell on the floor. Some people, including the lady in the red dress went to help her. Others started looking worried. The recording continued, “I’m leaving you all, forever. I’m tired of leaving this pointless life. At exactly eight o’clock today, I will take a leap from the cliff behind this warehouse…”

I looked at my watch. It read 7:58. I ran towards the exit, Bishwas’s voice trailing behind me.

“… There is no point in blaming others for my decisions. Baba, Aama, I’m so sorry I turned you into villains. But I had to say everything so that nobody in the future suffers the way I did …”

The exit door was too far. Can I still save him?

“… My love, I have been terrible. I deserve your hate but please try to forgive me. …”

I barged out into the open and ran towards the cliff.

“… My friends, I’m sorry. I’m leaving you again.”

I went behind the warehouse and looked towards the cliff.

I saw the silhouette of a man above the cliff. How lean he had become! Bishwas was ready to jump. I called him out but he did not listen. I sprinted to reach him. He stretched his arms. “Bishwas,” I screamed at the top of my voice. He looked towards me, shook his head and jumped.

I stood still, shocked and confused. I could not save him. If only had I found that CD earlier! I went closer to the cliff. “No, no, no. I should have saved him but could not save him,” I said to myself.

I returned to the warehouse. What I saw baffled me. Little children were running here and there and dancing to the tunes played by a DJ. Jokes, cackles and laughter filled atmosphere. In contrast, those who had heard the recording were mourning, scolding the children and getting out of the warehouse.

The lady in the red dress came towards me. Behind her was the woman who had collapsed earlier, supported by her husband and a handsome gentleman. We both asked each other the same question, “What happened?”

After some awkwardness, the lady answered, “At exactly eight o’clock, these children and caterers rushed in from another chamber. That was where the feast was. A DJ removed the CD while it was still playing and started playing party songs.”

She gestured towards the woman and her husband. “Bishwas’s Baba and Aama have had hard time. They just won’t believe Bishwas killed himself. You saw what happened, didn’t you.”

“Yeah, he jumped down the cliff.”

Her feet staggered. Bishwas’s parents gasped.

“But he did not die,” I added.

“What?” They all said at the same time.

“Yeah, he dived into the lake and swam to the shore. He changed into a monk’s robe and then looked at me. I could not see him clearly but he must have smiled. Others may say he died but he did not. He is an excellent diver and swimmer. How can he die?”

“But he said he was leaving the world forever,” Bishwas’s mother said.

“Yes, he left us and entered into the world of monkhood. Just like the Buddha. He can now go closer to the truth. Besides, what’s the point in grieving about the man who has finally found peace?”

What’s the Point? (Part Three)

Bishwas and the Lady

“What nonsense!” the lady snapped at me. She had sounded cheerful before but now she was furious. Why this sudden change of mood?

“You misinterpreted my fury as excitement,” she said. I was finding it difficult to believe her as she continued, “I wanted to see if there is somebody else who finds his catchphrase pretentious. I came here to punch him on his face for what he did. But you’re just praising him. You’re so naive. No wonder he tricked you into believing he is good. You don’t know him at all. He is a man with zero commitment. He never keeps his promises. Does not even try. It’s so ironic that you saw bravery in that coward. “

“Calm down, please. What happened? Why are you so bitter against him?”

“If you’d been in my place, you’d have been bitter too.”

“Oh, is that so? Tell me your story then.”

“It’s not the story I want to share with a stranger but I will tell you.”

The lady narrated her side of the tale–

After I completed my SLC, I convinced my parents and came to this City of Dreams to continue my studies. The money my parents sent was never enough. So, I started to work at a restro as a singer. It was not easy to work there. Drunk men with lustful intentions scared me everyday. But as it was helping me in paying rent and fees and I had trouble finding another job, I could not leave it.

Life was continuing in this mundane way until Bishwas came to me after the end of my singing session that Christmas evening, and said, “I have seen you before, haven’t I?”

Because that’s one of the most cliched ways to talk to a stranger, I didn’t give much attention but as soon as he took the name of my college and said, “I have seen you there”, my eyes widened.

“I go there myself,” he said adding more to my shock. I had never seen him before. Neither here, nor in the college. Could he have been stalking me? I was shaking from inside.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I tried to speak but no word escaped my throat. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I had no intention of doing that. I came here with my friends for the first time and we all thought you were familiar. That’s why I came to talk.”

*

“He does not sound bad to me,” I could not stop myself from commenting.

“What’s wrong with people these days?” The lady grimaced. “Always jumping into conclusion without knowing everything!”

Having got the taste of my own medicine, I smiled sheepishly. I felt exposed. Thank God she could not see me in the dark! Without waiting to think anything, however, she continued–

You were right, though. He did not sound menacing at first. He had an extraordinary charm. . . .Ugh! Why am I praising him?. . .. Anyway, he used to come regularly, sit on the table close to the stage, and praise me after I sang. One evening, Bishwas came with a stranger and said, “What’s the point in singing here? Nobody seems to recognize your talent. My friend, Sarun here makes music and sells them pretty good. You should now be a professional.”

We made three songs within two months. Everyone who listened to those songs, praised them. We could not earn more, however, because we lacked money. Sarun’s studio was small and I put a lot of money in the recording. Bishwas provided help from his pocket money but it was not enough for aggressive marketing.

Meanwhile, Bishwas and I fell in love with each other. (Yeah, fell in love because it only gave pain afterwards). Neither of us confessed at first. Whenever we were together, Sarun used to tease, saying, “You two are in in love and I can see that in your body language. Why do you keep denying?”

We would just smile and brush it off. On the New Year eve, after I finished singing my song (I had become a local celebrity) a year after we met, Bishwas climbed on to the stage with me and confessed his love for me in public. A lot of emotions came rushing on my mind and I broke into tears. I confessed my feelings, too. Sarun could not stop smiling. His gut feeling had been proved.

***

A couple of months later, just as I was about to climb on the stage, Bishwas said, “You don’t need to sing. What’s the point? Nobody wants to hear you sing. All they want is you.”

“But you’re the one who has me,” I winked.

“I don’t know. What if someone takes you away from me?”

“No one will take me away.” I went closer to him and looking into his eyes, asked, “Don’t you trust me?”

He did not answer. I felt cold inside. Bishwas had always said he trusted me. I had always believed his words. That day, however, I saw a different Bishwas. It’s not that I had not been noticing that he had changed. I had chosen to ignore because it didn’t seem like big deal. After all, change is inevitable. But his lack of response was something else.

When I ended my performance, Bishwas was still at the back stage. He came to me, grabbed my hand and said, “What’s the point in singing like this, dear? I can meet all our needs even if you stop singing.”

“But you supported my journey and it has just begun. Why do you want me to stop?”

He looked at his feet and said nothing.

“I want answers, Bishwas.”

He did not utter a word.

I lost my patience. Furious at him, I said, “How do I know what’s happening in your head if you don’t say anything? Why do you want me to follow you without a question?”

“Because I love you and I want you to be with me. If you continue singing, I can’t be with you.”

I felt like he pushed me off a huge cliff. I lost words. I could not believe what I heard. Bishwas had said many times before that his parents would not let us stay together because of my caste. But he had always said that he would convince them. Even if he could not convince them, Bishwas had assured that he would never leave me. His name means trust but I should never have trusted him.

He left me. Never even looked back. I cried for days. Sarun helped me during that hard time. I completed my studies, learned English, Korean and Spanish, got a scholarship at a reputed university and returned a month ago. I had almost forgotten about Bishwas but he would not let me forget him. Last week, he knocked at my door. (Oh my God! How did he found where I was living? I don’t know. I should have asked!)

“I’m here to invite you to a party,” he said. “I have hurt you and I understand. But would you come just for the good times we had?”

I stood dumbfounded. “Should I go or not?” I asked myself a number of times. When I finally realized that I could actually punch him in public, I decided to come. But where is he?

What’s the Point? (Part Two)

Bishwas and I

I was in a long queue for college admission. It had been two hours and nobody moved an inch. The small window from which “service was being delivered” was nowhere in sight. The student leaders were coming now and then and saying they were sorting the issue. But we were still at the same spot, irritated by the sun up on our heads and the state of administration. Then somebody behind me thought they had to take action and went ahead making sure their spot won’t be taken.

They returned and started arguing with a student leader. A huge boy was growling, “What’s the point in lining us up when the actual work is being done from the backdoor?”

*

“That’s Bishwas, isn’t he?” the lady exclaimed.

“Yeah, but don’t interrupt me. What’s up with people these days? No patience at all!”

“Sorry, my bad. Please continue.”

*

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Bishwas and others argued with the student leaders for a while. Every one surrounded the student leaders. “Admit us from the backdoor,” we demanded. To save themselves from the wrath of the young guns, the student leaders finally helped in getting the work done in the right way. Before leaving, I talked with Bishwas, took his number and thanked him for what he did. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. “I was helping myself. You were lucky to be in the queue.”

We were sitting under a tree in the college premises one day when Bishwas said, “These leaders… These are the ones who create problems out of the blue and now everyone thinks they will solve existing ones.”

Within a month since we got admission in the college, Bishwas and I turned into best friends. We used to in sit the same desk in the classroom, we used to have lunch together, and we used to talk on various things that interested us both. Elections for Students’ Union was coming up, and Bishwas was infuriated that the leaders who had not helped us were now presenting themselves as the saviours.

“Why don’t you run for the election?” I said.

“What’s the point?”

“Remove them from their position of power.”

“Who knows me? Nobody!”

“You should’ve taken the credit that day, you know. Every new student would have loved you.”

“Maybe, but you flatter me. Don’t do it.”

“You should have let everyone know what you did.”

“Should I have held a mic and shouted from the top of the roof?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what you had to do.”

“Nonsense,” Bishwas laughs out loud.

“But a loud nonsense is the common sense.”

“Does not mean those with common sense give in to the nonsense.”

“Yes,” I jumped. “This is exactly why you should run in the election.”

“I won’t. Politics, elections… I’m not made for such things.”

I failed to convince him. And, despite having common sense, and despite the big talks, we gave in to the nonsense and never thought about it again.

***

After the first year exams, Bishwas stopped coming to the college. He stopped answering my calls. I had no idea where he lived. I still don’t know where he lives. What an awful “friend” I was! If I had been even a good friend, I would have known about his family, I would have gone to his house, I would have shared my secrets with him, like he did. But I did nothing that should call me a good friend. Yet, when he came to my house to hand over the invitation to this party, he said, “You’re my best friend from college. I don’t want you to miss it.”

Surprised, I asked, “But I never tried to contact you after you left college. I don’t know why you left. And I didn’t bother to find it out.”

“You only knew my number and you called me. But I didn’t want to connect with anyone. I had distanced myself from everyone, even my family and old friends. What’s the point in being sad for things you were not responsible? Cheer up, buddy!”

“But why did you go away from everyone? What problems did you have?”

“Let it be a secret, buddy. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So, something bitter happened. Tell me what happened.”

“What’s the point?”

“Perhaps, to unload the burden off your heart.”

“There is no load to unload, but because you insist, I will tell you what happened.”

He then told that he had joined the college only because of the pressure from his parents. He was a bright kid and his parents had huge expectations. But he could not find joy in the college activities. “Everything felt forced,” he said. He was doing things without any passion. That’s why he devised a plan to run away to the Himalayas. That’s where the rishis and santas have gone to find knowledge and peace. He stole a few thousand rupees, and threw his phone in the Kali Gandaki a few days later. Then he heard about a monk in the wilds beyond the Himalayas and went to meet him. There he found some peace but he could not forget his parents and friends so he came back to invite me to this party.

Why Kazuo Kiriyama did not win the Battle

Kazuo Kiriyama is the best “player” of the “game” that involves killing classmates. He alone kills twelve of his classmates. Yet he ends up dead. A lot of Battle Royale video game fans seem to be annoyed by this fact. They say, “He deserved to win.” I say, “He didn’t. A novel or a movie is different from a video game.”

The kid who never smiled

We get the first and the most important insight into Kazuo Kiriyama’s character through Mitsuru Numai in Chapter 11. Mitsuru had been in an occasion, saved from bullies by Kazuo and since then, he had revered the latter. He believed Kazuo was the one capable of beating the system and destroy the Battle Royal Programme because he had defeated local yakuza (Yakuza is an organization of powerful Japanese gangsters or mafias).

Mitsuru and his friends make him the leader of the gang called the Kiriyama family. Despite being called notorious in the city, the Kiriyama family never bullied upon others in the school. They all relied on Kazuo Kiriyama and did things for fun. However, when Kiriyama kills his gang within an hour of the beginning of the game, Mitsuru Numai notices one thing that they had always ignored: “Kazuo Kiriyama never smiled.” (Chapter 11, Battle Royale)

Kazuo Kiriyama is apathetic. He does not feel anything. Neither joy, nor sorrow, no pity, no guilt. We later know that while he was still in his mother’s womb, she fell in an accident and a stake had entered Kiriyama’s head. The accident destroyed his emotional centre. Whatever the reason, Kiriyama is what Shogo Kawada tells us: “A hollow man … There’s no place in his heart for logic or love, no. For any kind of values. That kind of person. On top of that, there’s no reason for the way he is.” (Chapter 67, Battle Royale).

The coin toss

If one thing that changed the complexion of the story, it is Kiriyama’s coin toss. He had two options:

  1. To participate in the game, and
  2. To destroy the Battle Royale Programme and the government.

Kiriyama’s choices are not based on logic. They were based on chance. Had he used logic, he would have chosen the second option. He would have been a great helping hand to our heroes Shogo Kawada, Shuya Nanahara and Shinji Mimura. None of our heroes believed he was capable of killing his classmates. He hadn’t even bullied one! Kiriyama’s coin toss, thus becomes a bane for all his classmates.

Even if Kiriyama had not been thinking logically, had the coin toss made him destroy the Programme, he would have got support from his gang as well as the others. They would not have to fear their own classmates. Forty of them could have brought down the Programme in no time.

In the movie, however, Kiriyama is a new student like Shogo Kawada and is a mystery. In the novel, he is their classmate and still a mystery. Kiriyama from the novel, to me, is a bigger villain. But he could have easily turned into a hero.

Why Kiriyama did not win

Simply, because letting Kiriyama win was against the books theme of love and kindness. Kiriyama is the exact opposite of love and kindness. Had Koshun Takami, the author, let Kiriyama win, he would have set a wrong example. He had to save the lovely Noriko and the lucky Shuya to send a message: “Apathy is a vice,” and: “Choice made without reasoning is a curse.”

Had Kiriyama won, another theme of the book would have been crushed: rebellion. After the coin toss, Kiriyama’s chance of being a rebellion dies. Rebellion stays alive in the form of Nakagawa and Nanahara. They didn’t get long lecture from Kawada about the system and change to get killed in the end. They are there to bring about some change. Kiriyama’s victory would have shattered Shogo’s dream, and our hopes that the Battle Royale Programme would come to an end. Kiriyama did not win. We still have a hope.

[Featured image obtained from fdzeta.com]

When I died

I had been sick for some time. My parents, wife and children were sitting around me with grim faces. I had already lived more than twenty five years of my years and I felt like I was going to die. However, I did not want to die young. So I remembered my parents, my wife, my children and everyone who had been dear to me. All of a sudden, I lost consciousness. I stopped remembering anything.

When I regained consciousness, a man dressed in black was standing before me. He had a pale face with a big mustache and huge beard. His eyes were hollow. He looked at me as if he was disgusted with me. He produced a whip from the thin air and lashed hard at me. Before I could cry, the whip had tightened around my throat. I struggled but in vain. He was too strong.

He rose above in the air and I was dragged behind him. I tried to free myself again but I feared that I would fall down. He dragged me up to the clouds. He stopped and looked at me with disdain. He said, “Do you want to see your world before I take you to mine?” His voice was deep and sounded like he was speaking through a hollow bamboo. That moment I knew that he was death. I nodded slowly in affirmation to his question. He then told me to look down and that I did.

The world looked tiny from that height but Death mystically zoomed it for me. He said, “Look at your family for the last time.” And my children were in front of my eyes.

They were crying. My body lay amongst them. I called them out. But they could not listen to me. I tried to touch them but could not. I could do nothing to console them. Sometimes later, they carried my body to the crematorium and it was cremated. The existence of my body had come to an end.

Death did something and the time ran pretty quickly. My family was not sad. My children were playing. My wife looked a little weak but she was smiling. “They have learnt to live without you now,” Death said. He then showed me images from all around the world. Poor and rich, happy and sad, stupids and geniuses, religious and non-religious, rulers and the ruled, he showed me all sorts of people. “Why do you think I showed you all these?”

I noticed that the whip had gone away from my throat but still I could not speak. He said, “Everyone I have showed you and every life in this world, everything in this universe will die one day. They can’t escape death.”

“You know you must die. Yet you are scared of Death. You never lived life to their fullest because of the fear. You were also more concerned about afterlife than the life you lived. You donated to the poor to make your afterlife better, so that you can rest in heaven and avoid hell after death. That was very selfish of you. You followed religions in the hope that the door to the heaven will be opened. You looked after your parents because the scriptures said you will be in heaven after your death.

“You have not done anything that will make other people’s lives better. Give to the poor to see their smiles. Take care of your parents with all your heart. Start thinking that good things you do will make someone happy, that those acts will create heaven in your life. Stop thinking that your good deeds will land you to heaven only after your death. Stop fearing hell. Understand that your bad deeds will create hell around you. You don’t need to die to see the hell. Stop fearing death. Death will come to you for sure.”

I opened my eyes. The sun had risen up high. I was neither sick, nor dead. I recalled everything the man in black robes said in the dream. I smiled, got off from my bed and went to meet my life. It was grinning ear to ear.

Leave Me Alone-6

Previously on Leave Me Alone:

Ajay and Sasha go Sasha’s house to celebrate her birthday. Ajay sees a portrait of a woman on red saree. Coincidentally, a woman similar to that on the portrait attacks him and he runs to the police station. There he meets Dr. Shrestha, who tells him something about Sasha’s past. Ajay does not believe him. So he calls Parmila, Sasha’s maid to confirm his story.

In this last chapter of the story, we explore through the dreams of Sasha and find out the one responsible for everything the couple has faced.

Sasha was in a dream. She was in the study of Dr. Shrestha looking for something when she saw a small brown notebook with a leather jacket on his table. She thought she had seen it earlier but could not say where. ‘I am sure this is not uncle’s notebook. Whose is it?’ she said to herself and lifted it up. She turned on the first page and saw the name of the owner written in bold capital letters: RESHMA.

Sasha was shocked. ‘What’s my mom’s diary doing in uncle’s office? He had said that this diary was taken up by the court as an evidence of her insanity. Has he been hiding things from me?’ As she was busy contemplating, she heard someone coming into the study. She immediately managed to hide the diary. Dr. Shrestha came in and looked around. He looked confused. Sasha asked, “What are you searching, uncle?”

The doctor hesitated at first, but when Sasha asked again, he replied, “Have you seen a diary? It has brown-leather jacket. I thought I had taken it to my bedroom. I couldn’t find it there. I must have left it here.”

“No, I haven’t seen such a diary,” Sasha said calmly. The doctor was an expert in catching lies. She felt he had caught her. However, she was relieved when he said, “It’s all right, Sasha. I must have kept it somewhere else.”

Dr. Shrestha’s office faded. She was now in her hostel reading the notebook. As she read the accounts of her mother’s life, she felt she was getting closer with her mother. She came to know the details of her life Dr. Shrestha could never have given her. She was shocked the most when she read that Reshma had been sexually assaulted. She developed hatred against the manager and the lawyer when she knew that their acts had changed the fate of her mother and her own.

The girl had a feeling that the distance with her mother was decreasing. She could feel her mother’s presence around her. One evening before she went to sleep, she actually saw her mother. Sasha looked at her with awe and despair. She wanted to cry in her mother arms but she could not touch her. The woman told, “You can’t touch me because of those evil men. Avenge me, my child.”

“I will, Mom,” Sasha said though she was not sure how.

“Find them out and destroy their lives,” Reshma said.

Sasha knew the stories but she had not seen the manager and the lawyer. As she thought so, Reshma said, “You must find a clue that helps you find them.”

“Where is the clue?” Sasha asked but her mother had gone. She wiped the tears in her eyes, washed her face and came back to her room. She thought she had understood the clue. She picked up the diary and turned its pages. On the bottom of the pages in which Reshma’s tormentors were mentioned, Sasha noticed that Reshma had repeatedly written these words: ‘One stitch in time saves nine.’

Sasha had thought Reshma had written that because she had failed to understand the true nature of the manager and his lawyer. That she had to be cautious when her boss was offering her own auctioned house; that she had to understand the ploy he had made during the pay rise. This time Sasha had discovered the pattern of the appearance of the proverb. She took the words literally and looked at the jacket of the diary. She looked at the odd stitch which she had previously thought was a production defect. She looked at it carefully. ‘It must be a manual work.’ She took a blade and cut the stitch. She ripped the jacket to discover an old picnic photo encircling two faces at the centre.

On a closer inspection, she saw that Reshma had written an ‘M’ above the head of the one on the right and an ‘L’ above that on the left. She saw her mother on the extreme right. She also noticed a bespectacled man. ‘Dr. Shrestha,’ she smiled. Sasha looked at the man marked L again. She thought she had seen him somewhere, though she could not place exactly where. As she kept staring at the photo, her phone beeped. As she looked at the face of the caller, she remembered where she had seen him. ‘Ajay?’ she thought. ‘How is that possible?’

***

Sasha leaped space and time in her dream. She was at the hospital in Dr. Shrestha’s cabin a few days later. He was in his desk writing something while she said, “I have a problem, uncle.”

The old doctor stopped writing and gestured at her to sit down. Then he looked curiously at her. After a moment of hesitation, Sasha said, “I’ve been seeing my mom recently.”

“In your dreams?”

“I see her ghost.”

“Ghost?” Dr. Shrestha stroked his chin and said, “Tell me more about your mother’s ghost.”

“She comes in a red sari and looks like that on the portrait. She wants me to avenge her death.”

“Do you want to do it?”

“No.”

“You’ve lied.”

Sasha’s mind raced back to the incident a few days ago when she had lied that she had not seen the diary. ‘How could he not catch that?’

“Do you want to avenge your mother?” the doctor asked again.

“Yes,” Sasha replied in an angrier tone. “Those who killed her must be punished. I can’t let them roam around.”

“Do you know who they are? How do you find them?”

“Yes uncle. I know about the two that are directly involved. The bank manager has disappeared. So I don’t need to look for him.” Sasha clenched her fist as she said, “The other is a lawyer. I know him.”

“Where did you get all these information?”

“I used different sources.” Sasha did not want to tell him about the diary.

“Alright,” the doctor said. “I think I know your sources.”

‘He knows.’ Sasha’s heart paced. She said to herself. ‘He knows I have read that diary.’

Dr. Shrestha, however said, “You got that information from Parmila, didn’t you?”

Sasha was relieved but she could not convince herself that the old doctor had not caught her lies. The doctor thought for a while and scribbled something on his prescription form. He stood up and walked towards Sasha. Handling the paper, he said, “I think you’re getting hallucinations again. I don’t know what triggered it. But I guess it’s your source of information. I’ve written some medicines. They’ll help you get rid of your hallucinations.”

Sasha nodded, thanked him and went towards the door. The doctor called out, “Sasha.” As she turned towards him, he said, “Don’t tell anyone that you’re experiencing hallucinations. And don’t tell anyone about the medicines I have given you.”

Sasha nodded again and walked out.

***

Sasha was in her room. She saw two coffee mugs on the table. ‘I am not alone,’ she thought in her dream.

She heard a clatter in the bathroom attached to her room. She was scared. She slowly walked towards the bathroom. All of a sudden, someone came out. She looked like her mother on the portrait. But she was puzzled. She had said that her mother was a ghost. ‘Ghosts don’t use bathrooms.’

For a moment, Sasha looked puzzled at the woman who had gone her. The woman did not see her. Sasha cried out, “Hey …”

Before she said anything else she realized that the woman would not listen to her either.  Sasha’s courage increased. She then went closer to examine. She looked at her for a moment and then looked back at her reflection on the wardrobe mirror. A young lady stood on a red sari.

In a flash, Sasha realized in her dream that the woman on the red sari was not her mother’s ghost but herself. “Stop,” she shouted as her other self walked to the door. “Don’t go. You can’t kill Ajay. He has not done anything wrong.”

The woman turned back. Sasha thought that her other self had listened but she picked up the coffee mug and went away. She ran downstairs. She looked for Ajay in the living room. He was staring at her mother’s portrait.

Her other self was in the kitchen. She put down the coffee mugs and looked at her own reflection in the mirror. She ordered herself to kill Ajay. “I won’t,” Sasha shouted. The other self seemed to listen. She got furious. Sasha saw a steel rod in the kitchen she had brought for some purpose she did not remember. She picked up the rod and smashed hard into the mirror. She fell down. She had won. The other self remained no more.

But she was wrong. Her aggressive self woke up and attacked Ajay with a broken piece of mirror. Ajay ran away. Sasha ran after him for a while and collapsed on the road.

***

An hour later, her dream took her to the police station. She was walking towards Ajay and Dr. Shrestha. The old doctor looked at her as if he had never seen her before. She was about to ask why he was doing so when he walked up to her. The doctor produced a syringe and in a flash it penetrated her skin. At that small moment before she passed out, she realized that the doctor was not as good as he seemed. She shouted in her dream, “Leave me alone.”

Sasha woke up on a bed. The brightness of the room dazzled her for a while. A machine beeped on her right. On her left was a boy with a familiar smile. “Ajay?”

Ajay helped her sit. He looked at her with compassion and said, “You’ve been asleep here for months. Our lives have changed so much, Sasha.”

“What happened?”

He told her about his meeting with Dr. Shrestha and Parmila, his annoyance with his father and his father’s suicide. “Dr. Shrestha turned out to be your biological father.”

Sasha was shocked. She had always felt orphaned after the death of her parents. Ajay continued, “He was your father’s friend. He had seen your mother once when he had gone to their house. The doctor liked your mother, so much that it turned into an obsession. In his madness, he went to his friend’s one evening, put sleeping pills on his friend’s drink and assaulted your mother. You were born as a result.”

Sasha bowed her head. She could not look at Ajay. He put his hand on hers and said, “You don’t need to be ashamed. You’ve done nothing wrong. No one will judge you for your birth.”

“But why didn’t my mother write anything about your birth in her diary?”

“The diary you read was not your mother’s. It was the doctor’s doing. He said he copied your mother’s handwriting and produced another diary. He then gave it to you. He made you think you had hidden it from him. The doctor also confessed that he had killed the bank manager. He had pushed him over a cliff one day. His body has not been found, however. He also killed your father when he knew what the doctor had done.”

“But he said I had killed my father.”

Tears fell down Sasha’s eyes. Ajay consoled her saying, “No, you did not. The doctor killed him and fed into your mind that you had done it. That way he could give you medicines for mental disorder you never had. He kept track of everything you did. The medicines he gave you enforced hallucinations. Your mother’s ghost turned into your alternate personality and it attacked me. It’s amazing how he could have guessed you would attack me that night. He was an evil wizard.”

Sasha cried harder. “I can’t believe how anyone can be such an evil.”

“He was evil but he did one thing right. He kept his word by treating you before the police took him in their custody.”

Sasha wondered about the changes she had gone through in her life. But Ajay was beside her. There was nothing to worry about.

THE END

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