COMFORT

The thing about the story is an individual’s craving for loneliness proof life with comforting happiness. My protagonist along with the other characters happens to be MISING people and typical human beings of the middle class fraternity. How passionately and proudly he loves MISING cuisine is intake with the story which portrays his intimacy with his culture as a whole. A happy ending love story coloured by my own flavour, in my view, will be an elegant show.

                              

            It was like he had all, he longed for. And his longing for a home, the warmth of family were all there and there was uncalled restrain with least effort in his wishes that checked unachievable desires. So he was happy like a man ever wishes to be. The dusk felt and in his eyes it was all slow and serene that he liked to muse how stable his life had become with the love he always wanted from his companion of life. The gust of wind shot the Leaves of the deciduous trees that were floating in the evenly filled air by the lawn that spread between the heavy Iron Gate and the house, and added them to the already built layers of sunken leaves. It was dark enough to light the lamp. So he cleaned the glasses of the kerosene lamps for there the current was not regular. It was like a second new start for the same day and his heart was filled with lots of delight. And it was for, that they were expecting Miss Narah for the dinner. Then he hurried to the garage to check its door. On the way he found his mobile headphone lying amidst the polished floorboards that reflected the weak twilight beyond the widely opened door. It cured him of his undue rush and he was willingly persuaded to sit on the steps that gave way to the porch. The two leafless giant trees had spread branches and one could see the sky as open as it was from under them. In the faint light the lawn was golden and he walked through the blanket of fallen leaves, picked up a twig that once bore dense foliage and a blossom and his face felt the warmth of the setting sun radiated back by the ground.

          “Avn, come inside and help me pick the dish for the dinner” his mother called from inside the house. Mrs. Mili was seated on the cane made chair in the living room with her back partially buried in the scatter cushion. He walked in and headed to the bench fixed to the wall and the large window beside, threw into his eyes views of the lawn which was almost covered in darkness by the time and they were more breathtaking than the one he saw outside. Then he turned to his mother. Mrs. Mili smiled at him and it was like her face was lightened concealing the file of wrinkles on her face.

       “I shall make pitang oying; and takuk oying as the side dish if you would like, besides I have got all the ingredients ready.” His mother looked for his particular countenance which exhibited his appetite for them. He sucked in his cheeks and moved his jaw some rounds and said though knowing. “If only Priya likes it.”

        “She will definitely relish them, I can say, for I have learned from her, her craving for traditional food.” She affirmed.

        They heard engine rumbling; it was louder, and then turned off. The sound was typical to Mr. Mili’s biking. Anyone who had heard it could say of it that he treated his motor-bike very benignly. He walked straight to the kitchen chanting urgency that he needed to boil right away the pieces of pork that he was carrying in a plastic carry bag. The mother sauntered to the kitchen to see him lights the stove. The simmered meat was handed over to her for the side dish to be prepared. Mr. Mili waited for it on the table with a few pegs of poro apong already gulped down. Poro and noging apong, two prevalent rice beers got brewed in the hands of Mrs. Mili in the house. She, unlike a few brilliant makers, could only cater to the need for a drink but was humble to the essence of the brightest vintage available then.

        The aroma of red meat had filled the house and there rang Avn’s cell phone.

      “It is just some minutes from here to your house” her voice was dominating the whirr of the vehicle she was in. The whole house was lighted and so was the lamp at the gate. Amidst the heavy downpour almost everything was clear view between the gate and the house. Two unparallel pushes on the two arms of the heavy Iron Gate had opened it making them jangle all along. The red maruti-800 stopped near the porch where she rushed out to reach the porch avoiding the shower. She was in an orange salwar and kameez.

“Dada, fetch me my purse from inside the car.” The driver handed over the purse to her. And a blast of air that curved down the slender stem of the pot plant carried the rain to shower upon the edge of the porch and she got her share. Avn stood in the door witnessing her and the spell of rain that managed to moisten her tresses. Unknown to her he saw her face dazzled by the light swinging above her. And she was most beautiful then that he liked her. 

“I got a bid soaked, and what are you doing?” Her eyes gave in to his scanning of her. There was a run of shiver in his body loaded with thrill as the thought of her surrendering herself to his save hands overwhelmed his mind. He took her to his bedroom but only to dry her moisten locks with a hair dryer. Seeing this, his parents said to each other about how they were bonding and how perfectly Miss Narah would fit in.   

      The blow of the hair dryer floated her locks and reached his face. And he saw nothing else but the evenly fly of her locks blanketing his eyes and blanking his mind of any reasonable thoughts. He buried his face at the nape of her neck and passed the detail to her ears about the uninvited peeking of his parents. She beamed.

      Dinner was served on the table and the food was good. Apong got poured into the bowls. Everyone was relishing the dishes. They were Mising cuisine and most singular and delicious. The main dish was chicken steamed with powdered rice grain. And the other was pork fried with large leaves. The leaves turned brown and greasy as they were deep fried with pork. She took a sip from the bowl, savouring the finely made apong. Everyone was eating slowly, relishing every mouthful and not opening their mouth, except for taking in food, so as to evade avalanches of talks.

       They moved close to the bedroom door and faced each other. Her back inclined on the wall and he advanced himself and managed to watch closely her amiable grin as he ran his finger on her cheek. Then it was a light push from her petite hand. She pushed open the door, her eyes behind her fringe, which cared to look back, glanced at him and swiftly casted away. Then they were seated on the bed and he drew her close so that he could caress her tresses flowing down her neck and she let him grab her dainty fingers which he felt for the first time. All the time her smile was brilliant and she liked it very much to greet the array of kisses that he planted on her eyes.

      She had to leave for her quarter so Mrs. Mili wanted to allow her to take with her a calabash full of Namsing which she would love to, beyond doubts. The car rode off but still her presence was holding space in his heart full of exciting prospects.

      A year passed; nevertheless they didn’t see a minute in which they failed to care for each other. But her internship in the PHC came to an end. She opted for MS in Orthopedics and wanted to join Guwahati Medical College. Guwahati was not too far from Silapathar and nothing changed after she came to college. They kept close and made long talks over the phone. It was the tiresome work and the hectic schedule which would never let them to synchronize with each other’s leisure and they could not map the distance, which, by the time had come up.

      One day her high school sweetheart called her up. “It was not hard to find your number.”

“How are you? You have cared to call after a long while.” She reacted.

“Life is not too affable for me. Though not facing the fangs of life, yet life has denied me many things. I am unemployed and insecure. Tell me about you?”

“It’s not easy pursuing medicine. Where do you stay?” she said.

“I am in Guwahati too. Hope the scorching sun over Guwahati has not troubled you much”

“Let’s catch up someday” she almost wanted it badly.

“I will be pleased to find you not changed since school days and still in love with that wealthy, austere and well-liked young Oter. But I am changed and worse now.”

     Her heart still holding some soft corner for that old Priya, which never let her short of sympathy, wanted to fall for him again with all of her heart. She found him affordable unlike at the time when he was in high school and thought how he suited the vacancy her heart was witnessing at that point of time. So she divulged her feelings for him at ease which she could not do long ago when it was more of a fitting.  

      He was thinking about her, thinking about himself and found her around only to realize that it was just a dream. His love, his life bade him good bye, she left, and Avn was sad. His journey to office was not so exciting. The places he covered were not so cool. The road was graveled and potholed at places. After work back to home he found fresh fish for sell on the way to which he paid a good deal. What a satisfying day’s work it was! And finding back home the most welcoming situation was all the more thrilling to think of. After picking conversations with who he liked, though he was fond of his family, the feeling was shared to one or all, he directed himself to the town meeting who he liked; he didn’t like most of them all the time. In the evening he had supper with his family. There were avalanches of talks of the day on the table. Almost everyone was nattering and listening to no one, although he had nods often. What a joy, feeling and warming himself in the family. Mrs. Mili reviewed all the affairs of her babies, of course not excluding him, his bro and sissies and these much all she had got. His bed was checked always before he retired; Mrs. Mili liked to have checked herself and she never missed. He felt the night was empty and amidst these comforts he could not stop musing how incomplete he was.

            His view was chasing a tiny bug that was circling a halogen light and followed her till she flew below the fan and he found himself lying on his bed holding his forehead, which was almost demanding to burst, by the weight of his hand. His widely opened eyes didn’t blink and his turning to sleep on his shoulder from his back didn’t help him earn a nap. He was still awake and he perceived a shadow passing his door which suddenly did away with his fatigue. His vibrant legs carried him to the door where he pushed it open to find no one in that long and never ending corridor. He chose to venture along one way and didn’t stop until he found a door shut at the end of the passage. As he pulled it open he saw like his class at high school where he was almost breaking his head over a problem. His eyes not knowing how to leave from his blank page was rescued with piece of paper that was passed from a side. And there was Priya seated by his side. He was awestruck at the sight and step in to reach out for her but he couldn’t. Instead of the class he was surrounded by spilling ink pot, flapping books and pens flying. A stroke of his fingertip made the petals of the withered rose, which he picked up from a desk, detached from each other and they did dart away from him to join the whirl which provoked the feelings of incompleteness and desperation in him. The room was open at one side to an endless stretch of darkness and there stood Priya, her glistened body outlined against the darkness behind. His advancement caused her image flicker and replaced her by trunk, limb, branch and twig with full trees which were bright of the kind of the devilish bright. It was pouring out and acid drops trickled down the twigs of the trees which smoked away as it felt on earth. It was 3 o’clock in the morning and he woke up to see all whitish like smoke before him. He sat, rubbed his eyes removing the chunk of dirt that prevented any aperture between his eyelids. He was the only life in the room and beyond the doors it was the breaking dawn. He washed himself but wasn’t able to recover from the dreary and fatigue stricken night. Then he walked off to the living room, sat on the couch and reminisced the weary night and realised he had not many choices that he could entertain but go seek for her.

Amidst the table lamp light, which he hit on a moment ago, the silver colored pen hold by his hand could only jot down the words on the white piece of paper “Ma see you soon, but for now am leaving for Guwahati.”

He picked his wallet, cell phone and the jacket which was hanging on the wall beside the door in his room. Clad in top and jeans he walked off to the day coach station. He bought a ticket there and sat waiting on his seat, almost dozing, for the super to set off.

Priya was upset and could no longer stand the self-seeking and paranoid monster obsessed with his lowliness. She could not let Oter jeopardize her happiness, so she was dumping him for sure. Informed by Mrs. Mili about Avn’s impulsive visit to see her she was stimulated, yet there was a substantial tussle of thoughts in her heart concerning how she should show herself up in front of him. After impatiently walking up and down her cabin she left for her quarter as the time for switching of shift had come.

She reached to her doors and found Avn, fatigue stricken, shoring his back up at the closed door and laying his left hand on his folded knee. His eyes unhurriedly opened and to him her face appeared ascending from the lane. Her eyes looked down preceded only by a blushful smile which showed her appreciation for showing up and it was like she just realized what he had realised and thought that they were perfect for each other. Then they walked down the street still intertwined in each other’s arms and feeling the comfort that complemented the others which he always longed for.