Confessions

(This short story was published in The Statesman, 3 April 2006)

SHAMIK’S mobile has been ringing incessantly. He has gone for a shower. Swati was cleaning up the breakfast table. She was enjoying the last few days of summer vacation before the new session began in the University. The phone started ringing again. Swati picked it up, but before she could hand it over to Shamik in the bathroom, it stopped. Swati decided to look at the caller id and inform Shamik that someone was desperately trying to reach him. Well the caller was “Rain”, short for FirstRain, Swati guessed, the company Shamik worked for. But then, the choice of id was a bit peculiar! Surely, everyone in the company had their own mobiles! Intrigued, Swati delved into the contacts. Nothing much to gain from “Rain” — no details. More intrigued, she opened the messages inbox. The inbox was flooded with messages from Rain. The first message was quite innocuous, though a bit vague — “I am sorry. Ravi left early yesterday without giving me the keys.” Which keys? Weren’t keys kept with the Security? Swati felt a strange numbness rise from the pits of her stomach and seep into her arms, her legs, her whole being. She was spying on Shamik! She had already reached the second message — “Good night with a sweet kiss. I am off to sleep, feeling u all around me.” Swati sat dumbfounded, Shamik’s mobile in her hand. She had not realised that Shamik had come out of the shower and was in front of the mirror now. Shamik’s eyes fell on Swati and the mobile through the looking glass. He rushed to her and snatched the mobile. Swati looked up — ashen. “What is this Shamik?” Her voice was from a far away land. “Well!” Shamik was taking time to compose himself. “Who is this Rain, Shamik?” Swati asked. But what she really wanted to ask was why did Shamik want to destroy 20 years of their life so abruptly! Swati and Shamik had known each other from their first day in college. Both of them were 18 then. They were an odd couple — very much in love all through their years of passing from adolescence to youth, from youth to graying, through romance and the mundane. A feeling of being with each other through thick and thin was what Swati always thought defined their marriage. “Well. You had met her once at a party. She had joined as an intern last May. Somehow she got involved with me,” Shamik blurted, eyes tightly shut. “What about you Shamik? Are you not involved?” “I am sorry, Swati”. “Sorry!” Swati groped her whole inner being. What does that mean? She looked up at Shamik. Her eyes fell on herself through the looking glass. An ashen face, a pale body with red hickey all over her wheatish throat — kisses that Shamik had showered upon her yesterday night!

It has been seven days since the mobile rang. Swati spent most of the time sitting in the balcony, as if trying to get all her answers from the blue sky. Was she depressed? Was she shattered? But is there really any reason why Swati, a professor in a leading university in the country, should be hysteric about a man who has betrayed her? To be fair, Shamik has been constantly sitting with her throughout the evenings, holding her hand, coaxing her to eat, begging her to forget everything and come back to normalcy. “Please forgive me Swati. I love you and never really thought of going away from you. You are my world. I can’t bear to see you in so much pain.”

But then, Shamik could not fathom her upheaval. For the last seven days, Swati was exploring within the depths of her soul. A thousand Swatis reflected there — as if she was standing in the mirror palace. She was standing there with Shamik, Rik, Mayukh, Neil, Prof. Sen, and all her friends and admirers she has ever known in her life. She was scanning the night sky for answers to all the questions that had haunted her for five long years now. But perhaps, unless she could communicate with Shamik, Swati could not really communicate with herself. And now Shamik has brought her face to face with her inner self. Shamik held her head very close to his heart, kissed her eyelids and said very softly, “Please open your eyes and look at me Swati. Nothing has really changed between you and me.” Swati lifted her face and looked at Shamik’s eyes after so many days. Shamik bent down to feel her lips. Softly, very softly, Swati said, “You know, I am being punished for not being able to love all the people who wanted to love me.” Shamik froze.

Swati cupped his hands in hers and went on. Her voice tingling — like the light rains that fell on them. Swati spoke as if a mountain spring was trying to find her way through the world — uncertain about the way, flowing through the pebbles, bruised but alive. “I have never been able to tell you Shamik of the bloodshed I have gone through the last five years. You knew Mayukh and I were good friends, but I did not tell you that Mayukh wanted me to leave everything behind and start life with him. I told him it was mad but then I know I drove him to madness. I enjoyed his company. When Mayukh sang for me, I rediscovered myself. When Mayukh praised me, I felt an immense power unleashed within me with which I felt I could heal this world. I was amazed that I could still light a thousand lamps, I could still raise a hailstorm! But Shamik I could not love him!”

 “If you have bled, it is because you loved. Mayukh was not your madness! So many people die in this world without knowing what love is all about. Aren’t you happy that both of us understand the power of love? We know now how much we love each other Swati!”

 “Mayukh was not mad perhaps! Madness was in me. I felt so rich, I felt so powerful, yet I could not tell Mayukh even once that I loved him. How he pined to hear that! He begged me to say just once that I indeed loved him. But I could not! I did not love him — and could not deceive him by saying so. All the poems that he recited for me, all the songs that he sang for me took me to another world — where I was alone in the infinitude of love. Overwhelmed, immersed in love — I pined for you! I wanted to be with you by the side of the sea, collecting shells, I wanted to be with you on the top of the mountains trying to touch the clouds — I wanted to become one with you, only you, in my infinite world!”

“That’s so very true! I have never thought of a life without you Swati. I talked about you, about us for hours.”

“ Is it? But when you lifted her face and locked lips with her, where was I Shamik?”

“You were there, very much there Swati. In my heart, in your own place.”

Shamik helped Swati get up from her chair. He pulled her to bed. They held on to each other — warm and soft, softened by the tears, softened by the pains. When the first rays of sun hit the bed, Shamik curled his hands around Swati’s face, “Have we ever loved each other more than this Swati? In this golden light of dawn — you look so beautiful! Let me die in this bliss Swati.”

“Do I stifle you Shamik? I die a thousand deaths when I see clouds of pain fleeting through your eyes. I can’t bear to think that I live to pain you!”

“No Swati, no. Never! Now let’s get some sleep. Both you and Rik have to start early tomorrow.”

As the day came to an end, Swati sat in her office. She could hear Mayukh’s voice from his chamber, talking to his students perhaps. It was getting late. Swati was waiting for Mayukh to finish. She wanted to walk up to Mayukh and say, “I know a sorry does not really mean much to you, but still I have come to say ‘Sorry’ Mayukh. Please let me tell you how thankful I am to you for preparing me to face the blizzard that is raging in my life today. Had it not been for you, I would not have understood Shamik. If I have hurt you, look my whole being is covered with blood today! I love you Mayukh but in my own strange way. If you can, please forgive me someday.”

Mayukh’s students had left. He was locking his door. Swati sat still in her office. Mayukh walked past her room.

Swati heaved a sigh of relief. She knew if she had walked in to Mayukh’s office – Mayukh would not have listened to her at all. He would see her quivering eyes and the tears welling up in them — ready to fall like drops of pearls. He would immediately pull her towards him to kiss her eyes, her lips. Swati would struggle, threaten to shout, bang the door, and run out — nothing conveyed. Let the confessions be untold, locked forever in one of her thousand selves!

 Shamik was about to leave his office. He picked up his mobile and before putting it into his pocket, glanced at it. Almost unaware of himself, he dialed “Rain”. “Hello!” Did he speak to her or did he disconnect? He could not remember as he drove back home. It was a difficult drive. It was pouring outside —the much-awaited rains were lashing at a parched earth, as if there was no tomorrow.