Monday, August 17, 2009

Dusk - A Short Story

I was in the 2 by 2 (yep, you read that right!) compartment of a local train coming home from CST. A guy jumped in just as the train was leaving CST station and stood very close to me. Youthful in his looks, with a pleasant demeanour, he caught my attention immediately. As per the timeless ritual his hand brushed my privates. As luck would have it, my boss called me on my cell at that very moment and I had to answer.

After I had finished my cell-phone conversation with my boss he continued his advances. By and by he asked me, "where are you getting down?", in English. "VidyaVihar", I answered. "Then I, too, am getting down there today", he said smiling. He had a soft, honest face and I did not get perturbed by this development. "I am Amit. And you?".

"Deep", I said.

At Vidya Vihar we walked towards the RajaWadi garden. It was past 7 pm and a murky dusk had already settled in on this November Saturday evening. Amit was born and schooled in Kashipur. His father was a headmaster in the school he studied. His first realization of the fact that he was gay came at the tender age of twelve. His cousin brother, who had spent a dozen years on earth as well, liked to spend a lot of time with Amit. They would sleep in the same bed and one thing led to another. Amit fondly recollected the days, months and years that he spent loving his cousin. They had never heard the word "gay", yet their thoughts and acts together were the same as any homosexual teen in Denmark.

"It was always Vipin", sighed Amit, sitting down on the park bench, "morning, noon and night". I sat beside Amit. He seemed to have lost himself in his thoughts; I don't know if he remembered that there was I, a stranger, sitting by him listening to his reverie. "Vipin on my bed. Vipin hugging me. Vipin giving me paroxysms of pleasure with his mouth. I love you Vipin!" A single tear rolled down his eye. "That dreadful evening! The evening it all ended. Vipin fell over the rooftop trying to retrieve his kite. I can see it Deep! I can see it happening in front of me. Oh God! He is falling now!" Amit's anguish was so powerful that it seemed I was transported to that place and time. Suddenly I was no longer sitting on a stone bench at RajaVadi garden in Mumbai on a November evening in 2004. Suddenly we were back in Kashipur. I could see Amit's love,his very heart, falling to his death. Vipin smashed his head on the culvert and died instantly. In his breast pocket he had a picture of Amit and him together.

Amit had to stop narrating at this point because he was so choked with emotions. I patted his arm in consolation. "I was 20 at that time. Over the next few months I nearly lost my mind with grief", continued Amit morosely. "I was brought to a local hakim. He prescribed marriage". I could barely manage to whisper my protests to that. My parents would hear none of it." Amit's voice dropped to a dry rasp. "I pleaded with my illiterate mother to let me off. I wanted to kill myself. Seeing my suicidal tendencies my father got even more alarmed. They snared a demure lass of 16 from the next village and sat me down with her in the marriage `mandap'. I didn't know what was happening to me! In my pocket I still had the picture of Vipin and me as the lass put the garland of marriage around my neck. Later that night, when I saw her undress I puked and started sobbing hysterically. She got scared and ran out of our bridal chamber to my parents." Amit was silent for a while as the memories got too much for him. He seemed to realize then that there was me sitting next to him on that bench. He clutched my wrist. "I couldn't help it Deep! I just couldn't get myself to touch Geeta. Please forgive me God. I couldn't touch her!"

One day, as Amit came home from work he found Geeta hanging by her neck in their bedroom. The whole village came to watch their sorrow and condemn Amit and his hapless parents. The police got involved since they suspected that it was a case of dowry death. They interrogated Amit and his old parents for 7 long days and nights. When they were let go, the villagers wouldn't let the family stay in their village. Amit's father committed suicide by drinking Phenyl. His mother just gave up living over the next few months. Amit was left all alone with a set of hostile neighbours. When things got too much for him he ran away to Mumbai. That was a year ago.

Amit got a small photograph out of his breast pocket and proffered it to me. It had a beautiful lad holding Amit in his arms looking at Amit's eyes. The photograph was smudged with tears. "I have kept Vipin close to my heart Deep! All this time".

It was getting darker and we got up. "Time to go, Deep!", said Amit suddenly, "time for me to go". He suddenly seemed in a hurry to leave the garden. He seemed to realize that he had been talking to an absolute stranger and probably felt embarrassed. "So where do you live Amit?", I asked. "Some way down", Amit said gruffly, "some way down".

We got in the train at VidyaVihar together. I was going to Mulund – my home. Amit, I still wasn't sure. "Do you know what day it is today?", Amit asked me in the train. "It's the day Vipin was snatched away from me". I was shocked and felt very uneasy. There was something amiss in the way Amit was sidling away from me towards the door. The on boarding crowd at Ghatkopar pushed us apart. The train gathered momentum. Suddenly I heard cries of "gir gaya!", he's fallen down! I pushed my way thru till the door way. Amit was lying by the tracks, his head a bloody mess, the speeding train already sending the dreadful site receding into darkness.

I can never forget that murky evening till the end of my days. The day a homosexual man lost his life on the alter of a murky custom called heterosexual marriage.

11 comments:

Kris Bass said...

:-)

Alan said...

You squeezed some tears from my eyes with "Dusk". Thanks for a moving story.
I look forward to reading more.

Alan

Gay Man said...

Thank you so much Alan! Praise from you means a lot to me.

Monica said...

Beautiful and touching....I am fortunate to understand a different the world through your eyes and writings.

Gay Man said...

Monica you have always supported me through all my ups and downs. I am proud to have you as a friend.

Kartik (the cute guy from yahoo ;-) ) said...

Quite a beautiful story with a shocking climax!
Well written, All the best!!!

Gay Man said...

Thank you Kartik :-) (blush, blush)

indoreguy said...

Very Beautiful Story ! There is a common thread in all your pieces. The protagonists are unable to take on the pressures of a duplicitous life of a closeted homosexual.Though there are also many who navigate with consummate ease both ends of their dual life. I am sure gay youngsters need much more counselling and sympathetic ear than others. WELL DONE! you, my favourite storyteller.

banwari/vansh said...

i cant write a single word for such heart touching stories.................

shubhendu2011 said...

a story that needs to be told and brought into light, specially for the family and members of the LGBT people, who are still surviving with their ignorance !!

Anonymous said...

Touched while reading it..
Really like it..

- mack (CoolMacky frm pr)