The Old Toothbrush Pt. 03

Dear friends. It is with great trepidation that I have embarked on the third and ostensibly the last part of the toothbrush story. It has two parts. First, the 7th and the final chapter (small one) of the previous story that I am sure would bring around some more insults.

But, it couldn't be worse than what has already been said. What worries me is the appropriateness of this update and I so, have been hesitating to post. But, better be out than in.

The second part is a newer story as an epilogue to the first one and has about four chapters. I have called this part "twists in the tail". It has characters from an earlier effort of mine that I might post if you all are interested.

There would large number of passages that would be typical of the Indian culture and alien to the gentry but I would try to give explanations here and there or at the end.

The names of the characters would also appear strange and some of the relationships call too shall be unfamiliar. Some are as follows: dada (big brother); didi (elder sister); boudi (wife of elder brother); Shakuntala & Dushyant are two romantic mythological characters who were separated by fate and were reunited at the end. The first paragraph of the "twist in the tail" deals with a Hindu mythological deity who is all-powerful and also benevolent. He roams around in dark places with two of his bulls (real ones!!).

Chapter-7: The Old Toothbrush

It has been 3 months now that I had returned to Delhi. Life was brilliant, rather it was dazzling. I had no problems, no qualms, nothing. I had one person less to think about, one less to care; super. As dazzling, as the sky on a rainy night; as brilliant, as my dimly lit mind.

What did I do? Why?

The road to the airport had passed in a blur. Only thing Pinto had said on the way, in his typical inimitable Goan style was, "Very short trip, I say?" And then he had added conspiratorially, "your girlfriend is very beautiful." I wished to shout at him, "She is not my girlfriend you silly man; she is my friend for life; she is my life." But I couldn't. With my own hands, I had destroyed the final link that held us for 20 years. I had kept quiet.

At the airport, I purchased new tickets and when the clerk asked my destination, I had blankly answered, 'Pune'. Halfway through the booking, I remembered that my end had ceased to be Pune. I had blocked it. I asked him to change it to Delhi. The clerk looked up sharply but probably realized something was amiss; he quietly modified the ticket and let me in.

My days passed in the routine. All went well, breakfast, office, lunch, back to home, everything. But, time ceased to move in the evenings. The nights were long. I restarted smoking and I was skipping dinner. Initially, Ranju tried to encourage me to go and eat but then gave up. Once in a while, we went out for dinner. She wasn't aware of anything except that I was trying to lose weight. Healthier lifestyle!

Sometimes, I felt bad for Ranju. I was neglecting her, she was just a child. But, I was going numb and tired. I had no one to share my pain.

The more I tried to forget Suhasini; her memories held me that much fiercely. She pervaded my senses, my entire being each day and each night. I could not get rid of her. I tried everything.

Her tear-filled eyes and her silent prayer for me not to leave remained etched in my mind. I saw my Suhas pleading, my old Suhas.

I thought about it a lot. My logical mind asserted that I had no other option but my heart rebuked me each day for being cruel, insensitive, a monster. And the more I thought about Suhasini, the more I was drowning in the quicksand of remorse.

She had turned me out, no doubt, but it was her inner strength that had prompted her to do. To first set her own-self in order and it was not an easy task. She went to some extreme end to win back her husband, her closest friend. She converted herself, made her attractive beyond imagination to woo me. Only for me!

She narrated her side of the story in complete honesty, without fear and with full faith that I will understand. Did I understand? Sorry! No! Did it take intense courage to say such intimate things and accept her mistakes? The answer is yes.

Did it take courage to plead for pardon repeatedly even at the cost of self-esteem? Again the answer need not be told! Why did she do that? Because she had that immense trust in me! That I would understand.

How did I reciprocate all this? By leaving her in a most unforgivable way and not contacting her again for three months. In the end, I ended up punishing her so severely that there was no redemption for me. In the garb of a considerate husband with great magnanimity, I showed myself an ugly face that was jealous, unforgiving, malicious and truly inhuman.

I did not have the courage or audacity to call Suhas and seek her forgiveness. I had lost that right.

Three days back, Ranju informed me that she was planning a 7 day trip to Pondicherry. I readily agreed, because she too needed a break from me. She left an hour back and I now, am all alone.

I surfed my mails aimlessly. I was opening it after 7 days. Suddenly something caught my eye. In 90 days, that was the most precious mail of all. Suhasini has written, "Heard that you are not eating well. Don't do that. Look after yourself. Because of me, you are suffering so much. I can never forgive myself. I cannot even comfort you. Every time, the bell rings, I rush, thinking it's you. Foolish of me; I have lost all rights. Don't worry about me. I will be alright. Suhas."

The night passed. I read and re-read that mail a hundred times till it was time for me to go to the office. I went straight to my boss.

They adjusted me on the 12 pm flight to Pune and I was on my way. To make amends, if luck permitted. I had a very vague memory of the journey. Standing in front of the door, my hands and feet were laden.

I rang the bell. The door opened and I saw one female form wrecked by life. Only a shadow remained of her previous self. Hairs disheveled; stains under the eyes, deathly pale. That was my Suhas alright. I had managed to convert her to this state.

Waiting for me to come back; was I too late? A strained smile crossed her face. She said with a bit of difficulty, "I was waiting for you. I knew you will come."

I held her. I could feel the bones that emerged out of her body due to neglect and self-flagellation; punishing herself with all her might.

I held her fiercely. And then we sat down.

She had forgiven me.

The bell rang again. I opened it this time. Ranju was standing with grocery.

She came in and said, "Baba, have you seen what Maa has done to herself?"

I said quietly, "You don't know what she has gone through."

She said, "Baba, I know. Maa has told me everything. You two are the limits!"

The End of the toothbrush story

Twists in the tail-1

Trambak

I call myself Trambak. Who's that? Any insights?

Have you seen the phallic man coloured blue around the throat? No? Okay, the one, in the company of two bulls!

Still negative? Exasperating!

Man! The one who roams around in places where good people like you wouldn't dare venture!! He is also addicted to the good stuff that sometimes you people roll with elaborate care and happiness.

Does your mother know what you have been rolling?

Got it?

So, here I am, but who am I actually? Why am I hiding behind my alias? Why am I scared to lift the veil that could expose my innermost secrets, perennially dark but lovely?

This darkness is my prized possession; my small little snake, venomous to the core!

A nice fellow called Maverick once identified me by my name. He has a similar one, I presume. He insists that I am good and benign. Let me not disappoint him! What say, you?

Whereas, I sneak in like a stealth bomber and cause havoc and no one's any wiser. I am all too pervasive, omnipresent but I evade radars.

See, life is a big baking kiln. It roasts you like hell and burns holes into your precious skin. The fun is that you think it is all enjoyment and so-called 'good experience'.

Sir! You are actually getting screwed, with royal fervor and damnation.

I am a bit different, not because I don't get my share of the goring but because I compensate by doing the unspeakable to others, in various ways. It is so uplifting! There is nothing more satisfying than actually planning the assault and then meticulously implementing it.

I am like a dark blanket that cuts out all light, all goodness, all hope. But people still think I am benevolent. That is my trump card.

I am occult cancer. I strike the feeble and sick who are unable to resist me.

What's wrong with me? Today, I feel feisty. I feel like an aggressive hound, ready to pounce on some unsuspecting fellow who thinks that I can do no wrong. Whoa! That's my ammo!

I never do anything openly.

I am the destroyer of untapped contentment. Beware.

Knock, knock, knock!!

The train of thoughts that was igniting all my faculties were rudely tethered by the entry of the lady, the light of my life. LED lamp of high intensity but low on wattage; expensive but comes with a long warranty.

"Darling, are you writing something?" She coos into my ears.

I look blankly.

"The same pathetic rubbish I guess?" She reinforces the idea, with finesse.

"I am just writing letters of nomination to the insurance company." I reiterate forcefully.

"Atta boy! Hope they settle the claim quickly. Do I have to go personally?" She rubs it in.

"If you talk to me like that, I will do something awful. And that day, you...you...." I leave the sentence unfinished, for effects.

She nods her head sagely, like Shakuntala for her Dushyant, "I am living this terrible life only on that hope, howsoever slim."

She faces me and pouts her lips. I move forward in anticipation. She too comes forward. Nice.

I am back in my chair. Her push could be rather forceful.

"You dirty mind" She cries, how's my new lipstick? How do I look?

"Countess Dracula. Wretched colour choice." I reply morosely.

In retaliation, she picks up the bowl of 'prawn masala' meant for me and occupies her appointed place in the hammock tied between the two trees.

In vengeance, I order a double bowl, of crabs.

Musings could wait.

To the uninitiated, hammocks could be a frightening experience. Climbing in, settling down and then de-hammocking, all have their uncharitable moments. But once you get used to, it's unadulterated bliss.

I settled down in the one adjacent to the Countess and looked up to find nice juicy coconuts menacingly hanging bang over my cranium.

Life was uncertain; I had the choice of injury from the top as well as the left.

Looking at the blue sky through the coconuts, I ventured into a benevolent dialogue, "Where the f...k is Probal"?

"Doing what he does better than you." The Dracula replied.

The slant was not to be missed.

"Not some firsthand experience, I hope?" My turn to rub it in.

"Why not? Keep guessing!" She was relentless.

Not to be outdone, I said, "It is just your personal view otherwise I am much sought after."

"Yes, by monkeys and gorillas! Be careful." She was obviously enjoying the banter. So, I changed the track.

"Okay! So, Probal is busy, then, where is Ahana?" I asked, pretending ignorance.

She winked at me suggestively and concentrated on the prawns. I licked my lips and waited patiently for the crabs.

A rustling sound caught my attention. It was Ahana, in her swimsuit with a towel carelessly wrapped, freshly sea bathed, looking ethereal.

I placed my hands over my eyes.

"What happened dada?" asked Ahana?

"Don't scorch my eyes, go away." I cry.

Difficult to fool the Drac! With utter dryness, she comments, "I can see your eyes through your fingers, dammit!"

Ahana laughs aloud, "didi, at least someone is looking at me."

"Why, I thought you two lovebirds were at it." I poked.

"Who? Probal? Catching up with sleep that he missed during his college days." Ahana sighed.

I said with sufficient seriousness, "Look Ahana, it's not a matter of joke. If you permit; I and this lady can jointly kick Probal's butt. Only you, have to say yes."

"Can I contribute too?" There was plenty of eagerness in Ahana's voice.

Precisely at this juncture, the prodigal man with some supposedly extraordinary prowess named Probal made his entry exhibiting all the 32 teeth and holding a double bowl of chili crab, almost empty. He gallantly offered the last two to his legally wedded wife evoking in me an intense urge to cause him some appropriate physical damage e.g. reduction in the number of exhibitable teeth and/or kicking a sensitive area below the

belt.

"The waiter was looking for you and I offered to carry the bowl. Sorry boudi, it is almost finished." He explained patiently.

The ibid 'boudi' launched into a mirthless laughter; her entire body shook and made me tremble like an aspen, in anger. (Confession: This sentence has been partially plagiarized from a PG Wodehouse novel)

I became philosophical post this trauma. A great calm descended on me and I condoned the follies of all including the truant hammock.

What truly pained me was the behaviour of Ahana who a moment ago had been actively conniving to inflict injury to the backside of Probal had now completely changed sides; thanks to the two pieces of crab at my fu...ing expense and further sharing a single hammock with the culprit. Life was cruel.

I concentrated on the coconuts above while Probal shamelessly flirted with the female folk.

"What a relief from the politics of the school," Ahana volunteered.

Probal added with gusto, "Why doesn't your Director stop this? And what about you, the Vice Principal?"

Ahana sighed, "The Director is a perfect asshole. You just don't know whose side she is. Anyone with a fancy name like 'Adishakti' would be creepy!"

The husband-wife couple almost fell off the hammock in laughter while Countess Dracula quietly mopped up the remaining gravy from the bowl.

Incidentally, the Drac herself was the Director called 'Adishakti' and they called me weirdo!

"You know, today I heard a funny thing," Ahana said suddenly.

"What?" Probal enquired.

"There was this couple on the beach who made friends with me. Young pair, one good looking girl and one handsome hunk." Ahana said excitedly.

"Okay okay, what did you hear?" Probal wasn't interested in the hunk.

"The girl was saying that funny things happen around this place. So, I asked her, what funny things but she evaded it?" Ahana said.

"Then," Probal enquired.

"Nothing," She asked me my name and I asked theirs, that's all," Ahana remarked.

I was getting a bit interested.

"What's their name?" I asked.

Ahana thought for a moment and said, "Keya and Karan."

Twists in the tail-2

Flummoxed

Keya and Karan!!

I was dumbfounded.

But why?

To confirm, I asked Ahana, "Can you describe them?"

She replied enthusiastically, "Keya is the dominant type, has nice large grey eyes and Karan? Ooh, he is handsome but he seems to be intimidated by Keya."

That was enough for me. They were here and that meant that they were up to some mischief!

And how about the rest?

I carefully said, "The names appear familiar but it could just be a coincidence."

I found Adishakti looking peculiarly at me. She had some idea about what it meant.

They were coming to interrogate me. They had last visited me on 31st July, precisely 6 months back.

They were back again.

But I was still unclear. Why were they here? I asked myself, once more.

Slowly it dawned. This had to be the toothbrush story. I myself was aware of the loose ends that I had left under the guise of open endings. The scathing comments that had poured in were unnerving, to say the least. There were discerning readers who were gentle, nevertheless not very convinced with the arguments that I had set in.

Neither was I.

Because I was myself bogged down by the contradictions that no debate could close.

My options were limited as I was being tracked down relentlessly. The last time, when I met them, I was alone. This time, there were others, watching. It was bizarre.

All of a sudden, I seemed to have found a way out. They would not appear as long as either Probal or Ahana was there with me. They could be my shield.

And for all I cared, it actually could just be a simple coincidence.

Armed with this comprehension, I said with confidence, "Forget everything and let us have a ball in the evening in honour of the two best ladies who have made my and Probal's life so beautiful."

Ahana said dubiously, "Dada, are you talking about us?"

Adishakti said only one word, "Liar!"

That settled it.

The arrangements were made quickly and the evening turned to night as we assembled outside for the gala evening. Fortunately, we were only the four of us. The sound of the waves breaking the shore was loud enough to impart an ethereal ambiance.

Ahana was clutching the arms of Probal.

"We may have guests tonight." Shakti calmly vocalized my innermost predicament.

"Anything's the matter?" enquired Probal, clearly confused.

Ahana was quicker on the uptake. She said, "Does it have to do something with this couple Keya and Karan; you know them?"

Shakti considered the question for a second and before I could say something said, "Well, I don't know them but have some idea. Your dada knows them well. They may be coming to ask him questions."

"Questions?" Probal queried. "Are they some sort of detectives?"

"Detectives! You could say that but of a different type." Shakti said.

Exasperated, Ahana jumped in, "Dada, stop being a mystery man. What's the scene?"

Being cornered, I spoke being careful not to mess it up, "Look, Keya and Karan are characters in a story that I created. And there are a few more. This was a story that I wrote as a continuation of another story that affected me seriously. Though not desirable, I felt that certain aspects of the original story needed closure and a few characters deserved empathy. So, I took permission of the original author and with her blessings continued the story."

Ahana interrupted me, "Dada! You mean to say the people I met today are not real? What are they? Ghosts or what?"

I did not know how to counter her question but now the die was cast, "Probal, Ahana, look, it's a complicated matter. After I completed the story, I felt that each aspect had reached their logical conclusions. However, one night, I had a dream where all the characters in the story appeared and demanded explanations of my points of views. They were very insistent and I had a distinct feeling that they weren't going to leave till I answered their questions satisfactorily. In the end, they left, apparently satisfied."

"So, why are they back?" Probal asked with incredulity in his voice.

"They may have fresh questions or it may be something else," I replied.

Ahana came close to me and put her hand on my shoulders and said seriously, "Dada, I hope you are not taking some funny stuff or some medications. Are you ok?"

Shakti responded from her hammock, "He does not need anything. He is congenitally creepy. All this has started since the time he has started writing there."

"Writing where?" Probal interjected.

"Where else, the website! He is seriously into it. This place is full of people who have never seen each other but communicate like friends, foes, and lovers through aliases. He too has three VMs that he is smitten with."

Concerned by the unrecognizable terminology to an otherwise accurate description, I interrupted, "What are VMs?"

Shakti laughed, "That's my abbreviation for 'virtual mohinis (beautiful damsels)'. He has three of them, one is apparently cute, the other one insists that she is indeed Rachel and the third one seems to be suffixed in 2016. The last of the mohinis specifically uses the English vocabulary as if this place is witnessing some sort of an ongoing philosophical deliberation attended by Kafka, Aristotle and Nietzsche espousing skepticism, hedonism, and nihilism all at once."