He and His Secrets

 Once, my father was well, I suggested Kamal that we should go for bird watching near the lake.

‘Sure, be ready by 3 pm, I will come to pick you’, he said.

‘Duffer’, the word was out of my mouth. I bit my tongue and then said, ‘The best time to go to watch the birds is in the morning. That is the time when they are out in search of their food.’

I held the binoculars by my eyes and then slowly passed it on to him. Bird watching requires absolute silence. We stood there holding our breathes and stepping very lightly on the ground. Bird watching requires your presence to be inconspicuous. Kamal watched the plumage of painted stork with great admiration. While doing so, he gently kept his hand on my shoulder. I felt a current ran through my body. A single touch conveys the emotions which words may find difficult to capture. I felt like that moment should never end. Me and Kamal in the thick vegetation by the side of the pond, his hand on my shoulder and my eyes filled with colourful dreams of our future. But after a few minutes Kamal took both the binoculars and his hand down and said, ‘This was beautiful. Shall we move further?’ And walked normally. We spotted Great Egret, Little Cormorant, Black Drongo, Red Wattled Lapwing, Grey Heron and Indian Pond Heron. These birds are easily seen. It is just that the lay person doesn’t know much about them.

‘How do you know so much about the birds?’ Kamal asked me.

‘I would be alone the whole day after Maa passed away. These birds were the ones who gave me company. They even followed me to my Yoga class.’ I said.

‘Oh! I am sorry,’ Kamal said.

The truth was that the birds coming to my class and me going through the phase of bird watching were two different events unrelated to each other or my Maa’s death. My Maa was very much alive when I became a bird watcher for a year. I lied to Kamal. I just wanted to create some sympathy for me in my heart. Initially, I never asked for it. But slowly I realized that I was gaining sympathy for my mother was death. Slowly, unknowingly I started playing the sympathy card.

We climbed the hillock near the lake.

While returning, I was about to trip on a track that I hadn’t realized was slippery. Kamal held me tightly by my arm and prevented me from a fall. His grip, made me realize that those sinewy arms were strong and not merely aesthetic.

A flock of geese flew over our heads forming a V pattern.

‘Kamal, they are beautiful, aren’t they?’ I said, his hand still holding me, though its grip had loosened.

‘Nimmi, no doubt they are beautiful. But I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful in this emerald green salwar suit.’ He said.

Before I could thank him for his compliment, he continued, ‘Where did you get this beautiful  suit? Please take me to the shop. I wish to buy a similar suit for my wife.’

I released my hand from his grip.

‘You are married. You never told me.’  I said.

‘You never asked. Besides Gupta Sir, always knew. I thought he had told you.’

A toxic combination of sorrow, anger and the feeling of betrayal cheated coursed inside me. My face blanched.

‘Besides I have a six years old son as well. I am telling you. Otherwise again you will say, Kamal, you never informed me.’ He said and then laughed at his own joke. Now, I could no longer control my emotions. My head was splitting and tears welled up in my eyes.

‘Kamal, I am not feeling well. Let us go home.’ I said.

‘Do you want to go to a doctor?’ Kamal asked courteously. He was his normal self. But my life was shattered. For the first time in life, I had liked a man only to realize that he was married to some else. I had lost the desire to live. I resolved that I would end my life the moment I reached home.

No sooner had the car reached the gate of my house, I slipped out of the car and walked inside without even saying a bye to Kamal.

‘How was your picnic?’ My father who sitting in the rocking chair asked me.

I climbed the stair leading to my room. I threw myself on to my bed and cried my heart out. Why does this always happen to me? The people I love are snatched away from me either by death or marriage. The thoughts kept on bubbling in head, and the tears flowed like there was no end to it.

After some time, I composed myself. I looked into the mirror. My eyes were swollen. There were dark circles beneath them. A last tear rolled down. I wiped it before it could reach my cheek. I look point blank at my own eyes. There was a determination, a resolution to put an end to all my agonies.

I brought a rope. I stood on the stool and made a noose of the rope. I closed my eyes, and tied the noose around my head. In those last moments of life all I could think of was Kamal. Our first meeting, how I met him again in the hospital, our endless chatter across the dining table and the last meeting when he told me he was married, ran like a movie in front of my eyes. I opened my eyes only to close them again. This time it was sheer darkness. After saying a good bye to the world, I kicked the stool with my left leg. 

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