HEARTFULLY ENTANGLED - CHAPTER 5 - THE PUNISHMENT
"Diya mam has gained consciousness," the nurse informed us at the late night.
For a moment, the world around me blurred as if Diya was only present in my world. I raised to my feet immediately, rushing towards the glass door as if I was caught in a suffocating space, as if Diya’s ward only could give me air to breathe. I totally forgot about her mom and brother who were sitting with me.
But the nurse stopped me, "Sir, who are you?"
Before I could respond, Vijay responded, "He is staying in our rental house. Diya akka’s friend."
"Oh." The nurse forced a smile at me. "But sir, let her mom only meet her now. It’s not good for too many people to enter the ICU at once. You all meet her tomorrow."
I nodded helplessly, my chest tightening. Vijay nodded blankly.
Her mom rushed in.
The glass door was closed in front of me and Vijay. We both pressed our palms against the door, my eyes glued to Diya.
She laid under a blue hospital gown, her head and hands covered with bandages, her nose covered with the oxygen mask, the machines nearby signalling her heartbeats in wave forms.
The only difference she had, compared to that morning was, she had her innocent eyes open, revealing how pained and exhausted she was.
Her consciousness didn’t give me any relief.
Because she was awake, but she was not normal.
Consciousness when you are not normal is another kind of pain.
With this thought, my guilt slowly transformed into an anger towards her.
Why did she jump? Why did she punish herself with this kind of pain instead of punishing me? What kind of character was that?
If angels like her start punishing themselves instead of punishing the devils like me, the world would lose all the angels and it would be filled with only devils. Maybe, that’s already happening. The world had already became a shelter to devils, and the angels already became an extincting species. The only angel I knew was Diya. But she, too, tried to vanish from the world instead of punishing me. What the fuck!
I glared at her, my teeth clenched.
I could see her mom yelling at her with tears in her eyes. I couldn’t hear her words, but I could see how much she made her mom worry. The nurse calmed her down and removed Diya’s oxygen mask, allowing her to speak.
Diya’s lips moved weakly. I didn’t know what she said, but her mom broke into tears even more, throwing her hand towards her, but stopping herself in the mid air. The nurse calmed her down again.
Diya let out a faint smile and said something. Her mom nodded her head with a pout, kissed Diya’s forehead and walked out of the ward, wiping her teary eyes.
There was no anger, no fury, but only worry in her mom’s face.
What did Diya say to her?
I wanted to know it. I needed to know it.
But I didn’t know how to ask about it to her mom.
When I was searching words to initiate a talk with her mom, the door was opened and she stepped out.
Vijay asked immediately, glancing at Diya through the door, "How is akka, ma? What she said? Why did she jump from the terrace?"
Her mom sniffed her nose, wiping her tears again, her voice feeble. "She will be fine soon. And, she didn’t jump from the terrace deliberately. She said when she went to the terrace to do her morning yoga as usual, she saw a peacock on the syntax tank. She got excited about seeing a peacock and climbed on the tank in a curiosity to try hugging the peacock silently from behind. In that attempt, she fell down accidentally." She cried.
What?
I stood frozen for a moment.
Was peacock the reason? Never! I saw the way how she squeezed her eyes shut and jumped in front of my eyes. There was no peacock, either, as far as I knew. There was only her and jumping was clearly her decision.
Why did she lie then? Was it because she didn’t want her parents to worry or she feared about complaining a bad touch or she didn’t want to reveal the real reason which would lead to a problem for me? Why should she protect me?
While I was flooded with questions, Vijay frowned. "Let us not leave her alone hereafter, ma. Let me change my room to her room. Let me be with her just like we were in our childhood. Let me, too, wake up with her and go to the terrace with her hereafter."
"Hmm." Her mom sniffed. "I hope she doesn’t fall down hereafter. She is turning 19 in the next three months. Apart from all the maturity she has, she gets excited for simple things and behaves like a three year old naughty kid and falling down often. Two months ago only, she climbed on the children’s see-saw, broke not only the see-saw, but also her elbow. She recovered from it just a month ago. Now this! I don’t know what to do about this girl. Maybe, it’s my mistake. I should have not shown my paintings to her in her childhood. The paintings have my teenage atrocities and she got inspired from it, it seems. She became multiple times more naughty than me and has fallen down a thousand times till now, from her childhood. But this time, it is scary. If she continues this, I am going to tie her up."
I didn’t process any of her words, except her age. Turning 19. It meant she was just 18 at that time! I completed 26.
What the fuck!
She was 8 years younger than me. So I was right. She might have been a grown up girl. But she didn’t only have an innocent heart like a child, but she was literally a child, compared to the buffalo me.
I literally kissed a child in intoxication. And that child was not even complaining about me.
I wanted to run to her and ask her why she didn’t complain about me.
But Payal mam turned to me and forced a smile. "Why are you struggling here without sleeping? You didn’t eat anything, too, since morning. You should at least sleep."
"No, mam," I replied. "It’s already mid-night. Let me go in the morning after meeting Diya."
"At least, go and sleep in Krishna’s cabin," she said.
"No. I am comfortable here." I settled on the waiting chair.
She nodded with a sigh and settled near me on a chair.
Though the nurse told us to meet her the next day, I wanted to meet her as soon as possible. To apologise. To question.
I waited for the nurse to go out and her family to sleep.
After sometime, Dr. Krishna came back from his hospital rounds and suggested Vijay, Payal mam and me to sleep in his cabin. While they nodded and left to his cabin, I denied moving even an inch away from the chair. He sighed and settled near me.
The time ticked away.
A dull ache started spreading in my head, the ache rising with every passing minute. My stomach twisted with unknown restlessness and I felt I might throw up any time, though I didn’t even have any food except water from the morning. My chest tightened as my heart raced.
It was all not because of my guilt, but because of my addiction towards alcohol. I used to drink every night, from my age of 18, for almost 8 years continuously till that day. Alcohol didn’t only make me forget my realities, but also was my sleeping medicine for nearly 8 years. The sudden abrupt cut of the alcohol crumpled my entire body without even my wish. Involuntarily!
I swallowed hard. I clenched my jaw. I shifted my body a little in the chair, running my trembling fingers through my hair to keep myself calm. But my legs were shaking slightly as if I wanted to run to gulp the alcohol so that my trembling body would calm down.
I pressed my foot on the floor, controlling my legs from running towards the alcohol and intertwined my fingers tightly, my eyes flickering to Diya’s ward.
I need to meet her.
I need to meet her.
Meet her. Apologise. Get to know why she didn’t complaint. And then, a damn drink. Never move away before meeting her. Never touch anyone in intoxication, thinking they are sex workers, before they touch you. Damn it. No one would have saved you from falling down the roads in the past 8 years. But some child-like people are still there to feel empathy and to hold you. Don’t think they are sex workers in your subconscious mind just because sex workers only held you in these years.
Go through this physical discomfort at least for a few hours as a punishment for your sin. Never dare to move away, even if your body explodes, even if you die in the craving for alcohol.
With this thought, I pressed my foot on the floor more firmly, bending my body down, gripping my aching head.
A few more hours were passed, my stomach flipping with a nauseated feeling, but nothing to throw up.
When the pounding in my heart, the ache in my head and the twist in my stomach reached its peak, the nurse walked out of the ward.
I glanced at Dr. Krishna. He fell asleep, sitting in the waiting chair.
It was the best time to meet Diya.
I raised to my feet, swallowing hard to control my entire system that begged for alcohol. I pushed the door open and stepped inside Diya’s ward.
Diya was sleeping.
Her sleeping face!
Damn! It personified the only beautiful thing I knew. Music! If music had a physical form, it would be her innocent face.
Seeing such a face that personified music, my alcohol craving nerves calmed down a little.
As I reached her, I called in a low voice. "D... Diya."
There was no response.
"Diya.. " I called again, my voice trembling slightly.
This time, her eyelids fluttered open slowly, blinking for a moment, and then her eyes wide opened in shock.
Will this shock affect her already weakened body?
I startled back. "Hey... Please... please don’t get tensed. I won’t do anything," I said. "Calm down, I won’t do anything," I reassured again.
She blinked, her widened eyes returning to normal, but staring at me.
I forced a smile. "I... I am sorry. I didn’t do it deliberately. I was not in my senses. Still, I accept it was my mistake. But why didn’t you complain about me to your parents?" I asked.
She moved her hand slowly which was tangled with many tubes, trying to remove her oxygen mask.
She wanted to talk.
I stepped closer. "Wait,"
She kept her hand back on the bed.
I removed the oxygen mask gently from her face.
She said feebly, her staring eyes exhausted. "It doesn’t mean I fear about complaining a bad touch. If it was any other new person, I would have complained about it, not only to my parents, but also to the police. But I saw you as my friend and family. If I complain about you to my parents, then you will not be alive. I don’t know what the police will do, but my papa will definitely kill you. I don’t want to kill you whom I once saw as my friend and family. At the same time, I cannot forgive you. I was the reason you got a shelter in our rental home. Now, I am myself saying, just vacate our house right now and never come in front of my eyes again. You are such a filth whom I never want to see again."
Filth!
She was right.
I nodded my head, forcing a smile. "Hmm. I will vacate your house now. But you could have told me to vacate your house without jumping from the terrace, right? Why did you hurt yourself for my mistake?" I asked in a soft tone. A soft tone which I hadn’t used for years.
She exhaled slowly. "It felt disgusting to me. I am myself a psychology student and I have to motivate others to choose living whatever trauma they face in reality. I too tried to choose living, pushing away the disgust I felt. I tried it during the entire night. But I couldn’t. More than a psychology student, I am a woman. As a woman, I couldn’t bear that disgust. I went to the terrace to do my morning yoga, to divert myself only. But even meditation couldn’t help me. In a pinnacle of emotion, I jumped from the terrace. But God has given me this life again. My parents’ tears made me realise, I foolishly tried to punish them in a reflex, for the sin of yours. Suicide is always a reflex action which can be controlled if we think of our loved ones for a moment. I will not do it again, only to punish my parents. I still feel disgusted. But I trust time will make me forget it. You just leave."
My chest tightened for the struggles I gave her unknowingly and I breathed out through my mouth. "It..it was just an accident. Don’t wait for the time to make you forget it. Just forget it and get well soon."
"Accident?" She let out a sarcastic smile, interrupting me and added, "How easily are you saying it is an accident? I can never accept that anyone can lose their senses in intoxication. You did it deliberately. But as I jumped from the terrace, you are scared that I may die which will lead you to prison. So you are acting nicely now, and blaming the alcohol. If you are drunk, can’t you find the difference between your wife or your mom or your sister? If you are drunk, will you kiss your mom, thinking it is your wife? Don’t blame the alcohol. It’s you who did it deliberately." She managed to say, her voice being feeble, tears escaping from her eyes.
Will I kiss my mom, thinking it is my wife?
Those were the most painful words I have ever heard.
Her words pierced my heart like a sharp knife. I had no mom. I had no sister. I had no genuine friends in girls. All the women I had in my life were sex workers. Maybe, I had met some innocent girls in my music class. But I never tried to go personal with them. When I didn’t have anyone like my mom or sister or any friends like Diya, when no one saved me from falling down the roads for nearly 8 years, when it was always the sex workers who held me, then how would I even try to think in my intoxication state whether it was my mom or sister or friend or just a random innocent person in the road who held me? It’s not at all possible. My subconscious would obviously think it is a sex worker only.
But I couldn’t explain anything to her. I didn’t want to explain, either.
Anyway, what I did to her, needed no explanation. It was wrong, apart from all the explanations.
When I was in my own thoughts she added, "The people who see women as a body only can do this. They cannot differentiate between Maa, sister, wife, friend or even daughter. They will see every woman as a body. Even if it is a female child, they will see her as a body. Those people are not human beings at all. I don’t want to compare those people even with animals. Animals are better than those heartless people. You are such a heartless person who is not a human being, who sees every woman as a body. That’s why, you couldn’t differentiate. You said you don’t have a family. I thought to give my parents to you, to take you out of depression. But you know what? You deserve to struggle without a family. I think God has taken your mom and dad as God already knew about your filthy character. If they were with you, you might have touched your mom, too. That’s why God has taken your Maa...."
What was she even saying?
My entire body pricked at her words, giving rise to a mix of an unbearable pain and my anger. I intervened, raising my voice, "Shut up."
She paused her words, glaring at me.
I added, pointing my forefinger to her, my voice shivering, my trembling body craving for alcohol again. "Look, I didn’t kiss you deliberately. I don’t give a damn whether you believe it or not. But that’s the truth. And, yes. I am a filthy man as you said. But I am not that much filthy who can touch my mom with bad intentions. And, I said I am an orphan. But who told you that my mom die...." I paused, as I didn’t want to tell about my fucking family to her.
She glared at me and said in a weak voice, breathing heavily, "I don’t want to know how filthy or how good you are. Just vacate our house. I don’t want to kill you. At the same time, I don’t want to see your filthy face again."
I swallowed hard, nodding my head, placing her oxygen mask above her nose, my legs ready to turn away. "Get well soon. Don’t hurt yourself for others’ mistakes again. And... though you think vacating your house is a bigger punishment for me, I don’t feel it as a punishment. I feel like you didn’t punish me at all. Thank you for it. I will be careful in my intoxication hereafter. I wish you forget all this and live happily as usual." I walked away, an unknown pain clawing at my chest.
Maybe, I gave Diya a place in my heart for her kindness and innocence unknowingly. The place I gave her in my heart was the reason, I felt pain in hearing her harsh words. If it was any others, I would have broken their faces. But I couldn’t even yell at Diya properly. Pathetic! This inability to show your anger, this clutching pain, exists only when someone has a place your heart.
I sighed, glancing at Diya through the glass door, wishing a good life for her and headed out of the hospital, her words, ’You deserve to struggle without a family.’ ringing in my mind.
Those words gave rise to my headache in a way my head felt like exploding into pieces.
I entered a 24 - hours bar on the way, gulped an entire bottle of whiskey, and stepped out before it went too much. My headache, heart palpitations, my twisting stomach, everything fell back to normal, under the effect of alcohol.
When I reached home, it was about midnight 1 AM. I packed my things immediately, kept the key in a flower pot that adorned the portico of Diya’s home and walked out.
I didn’t have enough money to search for a new home. I was earning 20,000 per month and I spent almost 5000 for alcohol and remaining for my rent, food and sex workers, too. At the end of the month, I would have zero in my hands. That’s why, I sold my old secondhand two-wheeler and had some money in my hands to give it for advance. But now, I didn’t have that money. If I wanted to have some money, I had to sell my laptop now. But it was a secondhand laptop already and it would not give me enough money. So, I decided to stay on footpaths till I saved enough money to search for a home.
Anyway, I had experience in staying in footpaths, railway stations, bus stands and in common choultry.
As the railway station was near her home, I reached the railway station and found a place to sleep. I spread my bedsheet on the ground and I laid down amidst the crowd, Diya’s words, ’You deserve to struggle without a family,’ and a sex worker’s words, ’you deserve a good family,’ both flashing in my hazy mind.
Two different women. Two different judgements.
Who was right?
Why did the same me felt different for different people?
Maybe, For others, I was an optical illusion made of both devil and angel. How people saw me depended on their eyes.
But when I looked at myself, I neither saw an angel, nor saw a devil. I just saw a lonely man, who was laying in a railway station, hovering in alcohol.
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