HEARTFULLY ENTANGLED - CHAPTER 3 - THE ACCIDENTAL KISS
3 - THE ACCIDENTAL KISS
"Tears don't fall from eyes, but from heart."
Pretending to be normal in front of someone without a wish was another kind of burden I didn’t want to carry. Conveying my discomfort to Diya, too, felt like hurting her. I couldn’t do it, either. That’s why I planned to come home late and I succeeded in my plan for three weeks, too. I didn’t go home earlier in the past three weeks as I planned. My guitar classes usually ended by evening 7. But I made sure I returned home in mid-nights after everyone slept and left the home earlier in the morning, waiting for the three months to end soon.
That day was my salary day. A day that held excitement and a sense of accomplishment for others, but for me it was a day of numbing my loneliness not only with alcohol, but also with a sex worker. I used to visit the red light area on my salary day like a ritual for almost two years.
As always, I stumbled out of the bar, my hazy eyes blurring everything in front of me.
I was always a senseless person. I always did senseless things. But that day, the over intake of alcohol didn’t just dull my senses. It wiped my senses out completely. As I had an increment in my salary, I tried something stronger, something that burned differently down my throat. It took over me completely, leaving nothing of myself behind.
As always, the procurer said a sex worker would be waiting for me outside the bar, wearing a dark red dress. But I didn’t forget only her name this time, I forgot the colour of the dress, too. The colours under the neon lights melted into one another.
My legs wobbled, my eyes squinting and blinking to focus. Each step felt heavier than the previous, the earth pulling me down. As my body stumbled to fall down, a pair of hands held me upright before I could collapse on the ground, a girl’s voice piercing my ears, "Mr. Music, what is this? Will you drink? That too, without control? I thought you had some personal work. But was this why you didn’t reach home earlier for nearly three weeks?"
Despite the voice that sliced through me amidst the traffic noise, I was not in a condition to process who it was and what she was speaking. All I thought was she was the sex worker who the procurer sent for me. Because, the stumbling me and the pair of hands of sex workers were an inseparable combination during every month salary day.
Because, I never dared to visit the red light area with consciousness. It is true I wanted to explore physical desires without any emotional strings. When I didn’t know what to do about my urges, when I was controlling myself with masturbations, I saw an advertisement about sex workers and contact numbers to visit them that rolled down a porn video. In a peak of reckless curiosity, I contacted them. And, within a day, I was in the red light area.
Though I had been drinking since I was 18, I wasn’t intoxicated when I went there for the first time. The consciousness I had in my mind, sent a chill of horror through me. My stomach flipped. My palms body erupted with sweatbeads on seeing those women who were standing against the entrance with exposing dresses. I stood frozen for a moment in a dilemma. A part of me screamed at me to run away. But the part of me who contacted them told me to step in. I didn’t know which voice to listen to.
But the procurer smirked at me. "It will feel wrong only when it is the first time. But once you are used to the pleasure, you will not regret coming here. I have seen thousands of men like you. Even I myself felt it was wrong to get into this business when I was new. But I entered this field out of helplessness about money. Now, I am happy. When it is the first time, it is helplessness and the rest of the times are business for us. When it is the first time, it is wrong and the rest of the times are enjoyment for the people like you. Go and enjoy." He pushed me in even before I could come to a conclusion.
A sex worker held my hand immediately and led me to a room, the horror intensifying in me. My entire body was cold, my heart pounded. But she made me comfortable, flirting, laughing, sharing her drink with me. My nervousness was reduced after drinking and I had a good time in bed with her. Her touches with the combination of alcohol, not only erased my horror, but also did wonders to me, making all the self pleasure I had by watching porn meaningless. As a person who didn’t even have a hug from my mom and dad, as a person who was always in loneliness from my childhood, the warmth of real skin, the teasing whispers, the way her fingers drew patterns on me, everything felt wonderful, not only because of the pleasure I had, but also to think there was someone to touch me and to hug me, at least in this way. I wanted to feel both the pleasure and the warmth of real skin whenever I had money in my hands. Still a part of me always screamed, it’s not the right way. To make that screaming part of me silent, I made it a habit to drink before I reached there and requested the procurer to send the woman to the bar. That’s how they always used to pick me from the bar.
I didn’t think that day would be any different from the past two years of rituals. I thought it was a sex worker who held me.
I slurred, "You... You.. are that woman....."
"What? I don’t understand," she asked, still holding me.
"That woman... You...that procurer...." I slurred.
"I am not understanding anything. Let’s go home first," she said and led me to an auto. We got into the auto and it started moving. The auto driver and the girl were conversing something about me. But I couldn’t register anything. The auto stopped after sometime in front of a gate.
She paid the money and wrapped my arms around her neck to support me to get out of the auto and led me inside the gate.
There was no narrow street, no crowd, no neon lights, no women at the entrance, but there was only a garden. But my mind couldn’t process those differences in the peak of intoxication.
I moved with her. When we were standing in front of a door, she checked my shirt and pant pocket for the key. She found it from my pant pocket and opened the door. She led me inside the home and made me sit on the sofa, yelling, "Mr. Music, I have a lot to talk with you. But you are not in a condition to listen now. Let me meet you tomorrow." She turned to go.
"Where are you going?" I murmured, grabbing her hand, and pulling her closer.
As she fell on my chest, I wrapped my arms around her waist. She tried to get up, yelling something. But before she could move away, I took her lower lip between my alcoholic mouth.
She startled back, yanking herself away from me, shrieking, "Leave me," and ran away.
Why was she running? Why did she shriek? No sex workers did those till that day. Was she new to work? Did I hurt her in any way?
My hazy mind was more clouded with questions and I slurred to stop her, "Hey, what happened? Did I behave harshly? Sorry, wait...." I got up, stepping towards her. But I was too intoxicated to walk alone and fell on the floor, murmuring, "Why running away? Answer me and go." My eyelids slowly closed.
The time slipped down from the late evening to the early morning.
I fluttered my eyelids open, my head throbbing like a cruel punishment for trying a new brand.
I pressed my temples, muttering, "Shit. I should have not tried it." I shook my head, sitting up and found myself on the marble floor.
Marble floor?
The red light area had only a rough cement floor.
Where was I?
I scanned around and realised it was my home.
How the hell did I reach my home without my knowledge?
I gripped my head and tried to remember how I reached home. But I couldn’t remember anything. It felt as if I had just jumped from the previous evening to the present morning, skipping the previous night.
But how could I skip the time?
My fingers rubbed my forehead harshly, an unease spreading in me. The previous night was not just a blur in my mind, but it was missing.
What the hell happened? Who brought me home? I was supposed to spend my night with a sex worker. Did that sex worker brought me home? If yes, how did she know my address? Did I say my address to her? How could I? Why should I?
I punched my forehead with my fist in frustration, cursing the new brand of alcohol.
My mobile buzzed with its alarm, interrupting my thoughts. I pulled out my mobile from my pants pocket and found it was 5.30 AM.
I used to leave the home by 6 so that I wouldn’t meet Diya or her family. It was my time to get ready. I sighed, removing my shoes, grabbing a towel and walked to the bathroom with questions in my mind for which I could find no answers.
I completed my morning rituals, shed off my clothes and opened the shower.
As the water cascaded over me, I closed my eyes, dragging one of my hands down my face.
And, then, suddenly a flash.
Diya’s face.
Mr. Music.
The kiss.
The way she shrieked and ran away.
My eyes snapped open, my breath catching in my throat.
Shit!
What the hell did I do?
Panic raised in me and I grabbed the towel immediately, rubbing it over my skin with shaky hands.
She was not supposed to enter my life and to care. But she did and it ended up being the worst.
I didn’t know how I could meet her, how I could see her eyes, what I could explain.
But I needed to meet her. Without any delay.
I needed to know what she was going through and to apologise, though I didn’t know whether the apology was enough for such a reckless crime.
As I slipped myself into a track pants and t-shirt, I muttered, "Diya, it was all unnecessary for you. Why are you coming behind me? What was your problem, if I fell down on the road? Shit... I should have not seen the Tolet board here. I should have not been a tenant here..."
I rushed out of the home.
But my legs came to an abrupt halt as what I saw outside sent a jolt of horror through me. In front of my eyes, Diya jumped down from the terrace.
"Hey... " I shouted, stretching my hand towards her to stop her. But she plummeted and hit the ground within micro seconds, making my heart skip a beat.
As she hit the ground with force, "Diya...." I screamed, rushing to her, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Why did she do this? Was it because of the accidental kiss? Probably yes. She felt too innocent and young for even the smell of alcohol, how could she take it in her mouth from my mouth?
On reaching her, I found her blood oozing out of her head and body, seeping onto the outdoor tiles.
I fell on my knees and lifted her head, and tapped her cheeks, my entire body shivering with guilt. "Di....Diya....." I started with a low voice and then screamed, "Diya...."
Her mom, dad and brother rushed out of their home, probably hearing my scream.
All three of them knelt down around her, her dad grabbing her head from me, snapping at me. "What happened to my Kuttima?"
I froze for a moment, gulping. "She....she...I...."
Ignoring my stammers, his eyes flickered between Diya and his own hand which was coated with blood, his voice shivering, "Bl....blood."
"Diya, wake up...why did you do this?" Her mom screamed with tears, shaking her shoulders. Vijay too knelt down near her, his face terrified, tears escaping from his eyes, his hand reaching to hold her hand.
Though I was guilty and my body shivered, my heart was like a rock stone. I couldn’t cry.
Dr. Krishna lifted her in his arms while quivering with tears, "Payal, Don’t cry. Nothing bad will happen to our Kuttima. I will save her. Vijay, bring the car key." He rushed to their car.
"Krishna, her head is bleeding. I am scared. The head injury is...." Her mom cried again.
Before she could finish her sentence, Dr.Krishna yelled while Vijay rushed in for the car key, "Stop it. I will save her. If I can’t, I will also die with her. Damn it. I feel we failed as parents. You or I didn’t even know what was happening with her, and left her to jump from the terrace." He kicked the car with his foot.
Did they fail as parents? Or did Diya fail as a woman to jump and punish herself instead of punishing me? Or did I fail as a man to make an irreversible sin? Probably, it was me, who failed in everything. I was a failure in everything in my life except the guitar skills I acquired. But they were blaming themselves. I couldn’t utter any of my thoughts, either.
Mrs. Payal stopped her words, but cried uncontrollably.
Vijay came back with the key and opened the car door.
Dr. Krishna made her lay down on the back seat of the car and Payal mam got inside, taking her head to her lap.
"Shall....shall I also come with you, sir?" I asked.
"It’s okay. You carry on with your work. We will take care of her." He rushed to the front seat.
"She...She is my friend. So, I want to be with her," I said. I wanted to be with her. Because of my guilt.
I wanted to make sure she was alright and wanted to speak with her as soon as she opened her eyes.
He stopped for a moment and told me to come with Vijay in the two wheeler. I nodded and looked at Diya who was laying unconsciously through the window of the car as the car moved.
Her jumping, smiling, laughing, the way she pulled me to have dinner, her plays with her brother, her orders as a house owner everything crossed my mind. I spent only 30 to 40 minutes with her. But within that 30 to 40 minutes, she gave a lot of moments to remember. But that smiling and innocently laughing face was laying without any soul in the pool of blood. That too, because of me.
"Anna, wait a minute. Let me lock the door," Vijay said with tears, interrupting my thoughts.
I turned to him, shaking my head fast in agreement and rushed to wear my sandals and to lock the door. My hands were coated with her blood. I wiped it with my white t-shirt which I was wearing, grabbed the key and my mobile and locked the door.
On reaching back to Vijay, he passed the two-wheeler key to me, fresh tears forming in his eyes. "Anna, you ride the two wheeler. I can’t ride it in this situation. I am shivering."
I gulped, got the key in my hands and kick started the two-wheeler. Vijay settled on the back seat.
While heading towards the hospital, I asked, "Do... Do you know why Diya did like this?"
"I don’t know, Anna. Yesterday, she went to meet a friend regarding her project. After coming back, she was not normal. She locked her room and didn’t come out till our dinner time. When my mom and dad compelled her to have dinner, she came out of the room and said she had a headache. She was not ready to come to the garden, either, for our dinner. My dad checked her health and said she might have a headache because of the computer screen and told her to take a rest after dinner. She had a little dinner and again went back to her room. But now, she did like this," He narrated everything and started crying, leaning on my back.
I confirmed that the culprit was me, the guilt rising in me.
"I have never seen her like this. She is a person who always says, ’Every negative has a positive in it. We only fail to see it. We should only be wise to see it to make our life better’. But I don’t know why she herself decided something that is entirely negative this time. Even when she came to know that she was an adop.... " He paused.
"What? " I asked as he was about to say something.
"Nothing, Anna. She has never been like this even in the worst situations. I don’t know what happened to her. Let her open her eyes. I am going to beat her nicely." He cried.
"Don’t worry, she will be alright," I said.
Maybe, I said it to myself.
"Yes. She will be alright," he said and fell silent.
We reached the hospital within the next 15 minutes and reached the ward where little Diya was admitted. Her mom was crying continuously. Vijay went near his mom and consoled her. She leaned to his shoulder and cried. Vijay’s tears too streamed down his cheeks.
I stood frozen outside the glass window, staring inside.
Diya lay lifeless on the bed, surrounded by doctors. Dr. Krishna pressed the defibrillator against her chest. Her small body jolted with every electric shock, as if she was caught between life and death.
Each time her body jolted, something inside me shattered, making my eyes burn.
When criminals like me were living without any health issues, why should innocent Diya struggle like this, I thought and cursed myself. I could understand, how my dirty mouth would have felt for her. I could understand why she decided to die.
I pressed my palms on the glass window, my eyes glued at her. "Why did you save me from falling down on the road, Diya? Why did you bring me safely to home? I have been drinking for years and I fell down the streets a lot of times. No one cared in all these years. Why did you care? It’s unnecessary for you. I should have meant no one to you. But you cared and brought me home. Don’t be this innocent. The world again and again proves, when you care, you get hurt. But I didn’t think I too would hurt a person who cared for me. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never wanted anyone to suffer because of me. But you made me do it unconsciously. No problem. I don’t care about it. I can go through hell for this sin of touching a child like you. But you please wake up and call me Mr. Music. Please, order me to play the guitar. Please, slap me for hurting you." I thought, a drop of teardrop escaping from my eyes.
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