The Colours of Passion

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The Colours of Passion Page 16

by Sourabh Mukherjee


  I remembered how Mayank and I celebrated the day I broke off my engagement with Neha citing our differences. I remembered how happy Mayank was when his plan worked and I broke off my engagement with Hiya, accusing her of adultery. We went on a long drive, we were together all night, lost in each other, in our own world where all that mattered was our love for each other, as true and as pure as the holy books. We got drunk, we made love, we even decided what we would call the babies we would raise together. Doesn’t every human being in love do that? So, what made us ‘different’?

  But, guess what? I am just not strong enough. And I hate myself for that, more than I hate the world around me. Because if I fail to stand up for myself, why blame the world? The rebel in me wakes up time and again and seeks justice for my tears. But I fail every time. I fail because there is a part of me that seeks acceptance. And the society we live in demands too high a price for it.

  Does my weakness make me insincere in my love? Should you not love, if you lack the strength to take on the world for the sake of your love? And why does the world have to mercilessly trample under its unforgiving heels any love it fails to find a name for?

  I do not have answers to these questions.

  And, murder is often the easiest resort for the weak. For the escapist. For people like me.

  Mayank did not understand me the night he called me after I was released from the hospital, and I did not sound ‘like the way I always did’, as he put it. I was sad. I was sad for Hiya. I was sorry for what I had done. I cared for that girl. As a human being, if not as a lover. She loved me. She trusted me.

  But Mayank had changed. He did not understand me anymore. I guess love does that to you. It makes you unreasonably possessive. It makes you blind.

  I remembered the night I met him last in his flat.

  I broke the news. I had decided to marry Neha. The date was a couple of weeks away. I did not have the courage to stand before the world and make my relationship with Mayank public. I could not run away from my carefully etched life of lies.

  But, that would not change anything. Nothing could change the way I felt for Mayank. We would still be together.

  ‘Since when did you start bothering about a name for our relationship?’ I asked him. ‘Isn’t it enough that I love you more than anyone or anything else in this world? I’ll always be yours Mayank, I promise!’ I pleaded with him. Somewhere deep inside, I wanted him to agree to the arrangement. Nothing was more important to me at that moment.

  He was drunk. He had been out drinking all evening with that heroine of his—Rituja. And he was drinking when I reached his flat. He did not listen to me.

  ‘Manav, weren’t we supposed to take the first flight out of this country? Weren’t we supposed to go where we could breathe freely? Weren’t we supposed to go where we wouldn’t have to be scared of the sirens and the flashing lights of the patrol cars? What happened to your promises? What happened to my dreams?’ Mayank cried inconsolably. So much, that he was soon out of breath. He could barely stand straight. Drool dripped past his mouth. He began to curse the mother who had given birth to him. He kept saying he was cursed being born a man who could not have a family.

  ‘Why are you doing this to me, Manav? You’ve no idea what I’ve been going through for months! For God’s sake, when will you take a stand for us? For our love?’ Mayank wailed, in between his helpless gasps. ‘We have everything sorted out now. The travel documents have arrived. I’ll collect them tomorrow. And then, we can be free. Forever!’

  I could not hold back my own tears. I loved him. I could not see him cry. But he would not listen to reason.

  We were in his bedroom. I wanted to take him in my arms so that he could feel my heart beating only for him. I wanted to silence him by taking his lips between mine.

  But Mayank started threatening me.

  ‘Manav, do you want me to call Neha right now?’

  ‘Manav, do you want me to call your Dad?’

  ‘Manav, be honest at least to yourself...’

  ‘Manav, do you even love me?’

  ‘Manav, you could’ve told me you were just looking for some fun on the side and I’d have played along...I’ve had friends with benefits all my life...why the fuck did you make me dream of a family, for God’s sake? Do you even know what it’s like to dream?’

  Mayank was choking on his words. And he was scaring me.

  ‘Mayank, you’ve suffered enough. You fell in love with the wrong man...’

  I hugged him tight.

  My lips landed on his. I tried to kiss him.

  He freed himself, pushing me away.

  ‘I can’t see you suffer like this, baby,’ I whispered. ‘You need to sleep, honey! You’ve suffered enough!’ I repeated.

  By now, we were in the bedroom balcony and Mayank was dangerously close to the edge.

  ‘I’m not going to let you get away with this, Manav! I’m not going to let you fuck with my life...’ he shouted into the cold, silent night.

  I felt sorry for the man I loved. I could not see him suffer the way he did. I felt sorry for the love I lived for, because I was not strong enough to stand by it, making my beloved doubt the honesty of my feelings for him. At the same time, I was in the grip of fear. I could see my carefully crafted plan crashing in front of my eyes. My conflicting emotions cast a spell on me and numbed my senses. Mayank was going on and on, his voice seemed to be floating in from another world, his face shrouded by his unruly hair was like a dark ominous haze.

  In a split second, I pushed him. Off the edge of that balcony. And I watched him fall to sleep, to eternal peace that his tormented soul demanded.

  But, destiny had its own plans.

  I never imagined we would be united so soon, our journey to eternal bliss unfolding just as Mayank had planned it. I can see my love waiting for me—his messy locks all over his face, his lips curved in that lopsided smile that never failed to make my heart skip a beat, his arms stretched for me. Just for me.

  As the sirens grow louder, I can feel his arms closing around me, his lips seeking mine. Mayank must have forgiven me.

  ***THE END***

  Acknowledgments

  I cannot thank my readers enough for the warm welcome extended to ACP Agni Mitra upon the release of my first novel In the Shadows of Death. The first Agni Mitra thriller continues to receive accolades from readers, book critics and the mainstream national media.

  In my creative journey, I have made several friends, many of whom I have not even met in person—there are far too many of you to name here, but I know that you know. Thanks for your unflinching support, for your constant motivation and encouragement, for sharing ideas, for spreading the word about my work.

  Thanks to all my friends from South Point, Jadavpur University and workplaces—current and past. Nothing beats the joy of being appreciated for your literary endeavours by someone you sat in a classroom with, or, with whom you worked late nights to meet a deadline.

  Thanks to my wife, Moumita, who always gets to read the first draft of my work. Our brainstorming for hours in a coffee shop, armed with notepads and pens, over her invaluable feedback on different aspects of the plot made this a better story.

  Big thanks to Indrani Ganguly for her meticulous review and editing, Abir Sanyal for the wonderful cover art and everyone in Team Readomania for bringing my story to the readers. I think the best part about producing a book is to discover how one individual’s vision becomes, over time, one shared by everyone involved in the creative process, each rooting for a common cause—to see millions of readers across the world eventually imbibe that vision.

  My publisher and good friend, Dipankar Mukherjee, came into my life at a crucial juncture. His energy is infectious. I thank him from the bottom of my heart for his invaluable suggestions, fresh ideas and for the warm welcome he extended to me, making me a part of the Readomania family.

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