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Story: The Guest

By Sahadev Sahoo | PUBLISHED: 17, Jun 2013, 16:03 pm IST | UPDATED: 17, Jun 2013, 16:34 pm IST

Story: The Guest Kakoli said, “Do you think our secret affair would be known and people would scandalize us? Who bothers about what others do in this city? In this city, members of an entire family were killed: father, mother, their only son and also their two dogs. Their nearest neighbor could not even get an inkling of it for five days, till the corpses decomposed, and started stinking in the whole area. Only when the pungent smell of the decomposed bodies polluted the area, the neighbors could smell of some foul play and informed the police.

The police broke open the house and then, after five days, his nearest neighbors came to know that the old man, who every day went on morning walk with his two dogs, was brutally killed along with his wife, son and his two dear dogs by some miscreants. They were all cut in the throats and bled to death. In such a city, who keeps track of what others do, pries into who comes to whose house or who meets whom? You know, this is Rourkela. And who cares, if somebody even knows?”

She shrugged her shoulders when she said, ‘Who cares…’ Her chest expanded and breasts puffed up. She looked more beautiful and attractive, like a goddess sent from heaven to crush a demon as described in mythology.

Kakoli had an easy answer to any difficult question and a simple way out for any complicated situation. Manas did not have to express it; she could study his mind and knew his concern. She also spoke in such a confident, logical and forceful manner that it not only got his apprehensions off his mind, but also instilled confidence in him.

One day, after almost one year of his transfer to Rourkela, Manas happened to meet Kakoli in Sector Five-market. He had not met her since she was married. In the cloth store of Sector Five-market, when Kakoli saw him after a long interval, she could not exactly locate him and asked, ‘Where have you come from?’

“Why? I am from Jajpur district.”

“Are you not Manas? Don’t you recognize me?”

He recognized. His meeting with her was unexpected. Of course, he knew at the time of her marriage that her husband was an engineer of Rourkela Steel Plant. Already twenty one years had passed since then. He had forgotten. It had never occurred to him, after he was transferred to Rourkela and stayed there for almost a year that Rourkela was the city where Kakoli also lived.

“Where are you staying?”

“In Basanti Colony. You?”

“We have sublet the house allotted to us in the sector. Now staying in our own house, in Chhend colony.  Come with me, you will see our house and come later when you like.”

Manas was with his colleague, Parmanik. He told he would go later, on another day. But Kakoli did not leave him, pressed him to go with her. Paramanik said, “You met after so many years, you may go with her.” He was watching both conversing so informally and affectionately, and had concluded, he must have been very close to her, and had met after a long period.

Kakoli was close to him when he was in school. What Kakoli and Pratap did at that time, when they were in school, became talk of the village for many days. He was the only witness from the beginning of their affair and had been a close associate of them. Manas’s uncle was a teacher of Brajbandhu High School.

The school was set up by the grandfather of Kakoli. Manas was also a student of the school, staying with his uncle. He was the conduit between the two, exchanging letters between Pratap and Kakoli confidentially. They decided to leave secretly their houses after Matriculation exams, go to Cuttack and marry in Cuttack Chandi temple. They had hoped Pratap’s cousin residing then at Cuttack would help them. Manas was privy to their plan, helping them in passing on the massages to each other, and maintaining utmost secrecy.

But they were caught. At that time, the communication system had not developed. The nearest bus stop was twelve kms away from the village and one had to walk the twelve kms or come by cycle to reach the bus stop. Though both Kakoli and Pratap had tried their best to keep their affair a secret, their sisters-in-law and aunts were suspicious of their relation.

They apprehended something might happen, and were alert, keeping a close watch on their moves. The night Kakoli and Pratap left their respective homes; a sister-in-law of Kakoli found the doors of her room not bolted from inside and pushed open to discover Kakoli was not in the room. She rightly suspected and alerted others. They were caught before they reached the bus stop. The plan and their associates were thus exposed.

Within two years of her failed attempt to elope, her parents married her off to an engineer of Rourkela Steel Plant. The same year Manas appeared his Matriculation exam and left Brajabandhu High School as well as Kakoli’s village. Since then he did not have any scope or occasion to meet her. Sometimes, when Manas came across any news of elopement by young and immature boys and girls in the newspaper or heard such cases from someone, he remembered Kakoli and Pratap. Otherwise, he had almost forgotten them.

Kakoli drove her car. Manas was on the front seat at her side. The car was running on the ring road. The street light of the ring road fell on her through the car window. Her face and body did not look distinctly. Manas eyed intently and tried to study her.

She looked like a damsel at thirty or thirty one. She had not added more fat to her body, managed to remain slim. Her wavy hair touched her shoulders and covered her nape. Her look and appearance did not reveal the fact that her marriage was twenty one years old, and she had a son studying engineering in a degree college. It appeared; as if she had refused to grow old, and kept her age where she wanted it to be at, the unseen hand of the great Sculptor had chiseled her body as she ordered.

Kakoli asked, “Why do you keep mum and look at me like an idiot?”

“Yes, I am seeing you…?” Manas said.

“What? Do you look at what changes I have during these long years? Then speak out….”

“When you were in the village during those days, it seemed; everyday in the morning, first you went to the river, took bathe and worshipped Lord Mahadev in the Shiv Temple. Goddess Parvati had blessing upon you. You seemed pure, simple and beautiful. Anyone who had a look at you would feel like worshipping….. Your touch would bring a person lot of dreams; he would find purpose in life….”

“And now?”

“Now it seems you don’t go to a temple, you visit club. Your look would create vacuum in the life of the man, make him thirsty. He would become conscious of incompleteness and meaninglessness of his life…..”

She put on the brakes suddenly. The car came to a screeching halt at some metres from the Chhend square, in front of a half built temple. She looked at him for some moments, and said, “You speak so beautiful….When did you become a poet?” She bent towards him, gave a gentle slap on his right cheek, and drove the car. Manas felt her slap had made him lose his weight, gravitation force had ceased to work on him, he was not in the car driven by Kakoli, but he was swimming in the void, flying in the sky.

He continued to visit her after his meeting in that Sector Five-market. In course of time, visiting her became a habit with him and he felt like a drug addict without his regular dose if he could not visit her even a day.

Manas did not like the persons he had to work with in the office. Most of them were very selfish and corrupt. The office had earned a bad name. The head of the organization had sent him to that office to set right, and get back the name for the office.

The staff and officials of the office were against his posting, but they had to tolerate him as he was sent by the head of the organization. They could not do anything as they were aware that Manas was enjoying the confidence and blessings of their top boss.

On the other hand, they could not tolerate, and indulged in spreading canards against him, which reached his ears from other sources. He had succeeded in containing to an extent their corrupt practices, which had gone against the interest of them. When he was in the office, his behavior with his colleagues was measured; he did not speak anything, if not required.

During that time, cracks developed in his family life. He noticed the behavior of his wife changed after some months’ stay in Rourkela. She was used to do the daily chores, but now she wanted a maid to assist her. Show off attitude of their neighbors influenced her also; she now evinced a desire to buy expensive clothes, ornaments and costly articles. She also demanded to go for outing and take meals in expensive restaurants. Manas was never interested in all those things, he could not also afford with his fixed salary. But his wife now failed to understand him, and expressed unhappiness in many ways at the cost of their peaceful family life. After he met Kakoli and continued to visit her, he now noticed the ugly side of his wife.

He felt his wife had never an aesthetic sense; being a chronic cold patient, she failed to appeal and incite his finer sensibility. Now he started finding fault with her.
He was not happy in the office. He attended the office every day as he had to. On his return, his wife’s complaints and demands farther irritated him. He wanted to escape, and sought happiness in the company of Kakoli.

Kakoli’s house was two storied, located on the road side in the Chhend colony. In the first floor, they had only one big room with attached toilet. The rest of the roof was left unused. She had kept flower pots on the three sides of the terrace. Rose, Rajanigandha, crotons & cactus. The back window of the room of the upper floor commanded a good vision of the nearby mountain. The main road of the Chhend colony was clearly visible through the front window of the room. The room was well ventilated. Manas liked the room. When he visited Kakoli he straight went to the room, which was also used as the guest room. He loved to make love with her in the guest room.  Kakoli one day remarked, “Since you come to have your guest meal, it is natural that you would like our guest room.”

As the days went by, his relation with Kakoli became more intimate. He did not have any guilt feeling, but he was afraid. Kakoli’s husband might start having doubts about their relationship, and take some dangerous steps. On the other hand, his wife might also suspect his relation with her. Worms of suspicion once entered into her mind would completely destroy his family life. Kakoli had very simple answer to all such apprehensions. She used to say, “Ajit might have become a respectable person by becoming an engineer, but he hails from a humble farmer’s family. He wants to leave his past in the past, forget his background. He is really narrow-minded at heart, but wants to show off as an updated and broad minded person. He has created an artificial mask and been so used to cover up himself in the mask that now he believes the mask is the reality. Even if he has doubts, he would not take such a step so that he would be exposed himself for having doubts and looked upon as narrow-minded. But that does not mean that we shall forget our responsibility. We should be always alert.”

Sometimes, Kakoli reached his house. If Manas was not at home, she would take his wife and child to Indira Park, Madhuvan Canteen or take them her home. She had introduced them to Ajit. She said to his wife,  “You know, this is a city full of selfish people. The people here don’t know anything except running after money. People here have motive even behind keeping relation with someone. Now I feel good after Manas has come to this city. I feel I have, at least, someone in this city. Manas’s uncle was my teacher. He was two years junior to me in the school. We both were taking tuition from his uncle at the same time. Now I feel I have a younger brother who I can talk to, open up myself.” His wife was impressed. She would rather tell Manas, “Why don’t you go to Kakoli sometimes when you find time? She loves you as a younger brother. You both belong to the same area. Poor Kakoli, his only son is away from home, studying in Bangalore. When her husband goes on shift duty she becomes lonely and gets bored.”

He knew from their discussion and her remarks on Ajit that Kakoli had hatred for her husband. But he did not notice anything wrong with their behavior with each other. Sometimes Manas reached her house when Ajit was present. Kakoli also insisted on his coming sometimes when Ajit was at home. In those days Kakoli also did not show any ill feeling against her husband. As a wife she also did not seem to have ignored or neglected her husband.

Ajit had celebrated their marriage anniversary and arranged a party. He had invited his colleagues and some superior officers to the party. Kakoli, clad in a deep blue saree and with ornaments, looked extremely beautiful. On that day she had also gone to the beauty parlor; done up her hair. Finding her alone, Manas joked, “Should we go to the guest room now. I can’t resist.”

“No, not today. Today is my marriage anniversary.”

“But today, looking at you I really get pangs of jealousy”

Kakoli pinched his cheek and said, “Our anniversary date is on a different day; we shall celebrate. Not in such fanfare, we shall be and no-one else, you and me, me and you, and silence every where…..”

“When?”

“On 5th February.”

Kakoli went away to look after the guests. Manas remembered he had met Kakoli first time in Rourkela at Sector Five-market on the 5th February.   

Days went by. As unknown fear gripped him as intimacy with Kakoli developed. In his office, his subordinates and colleagues were non-cooperative. Still office work went on well. His departmental head was satisfied with his work. But he had lost interest in official work. He went to the office as he had to. He just managed the work. He became irritable. That irritability was not with him earlier; he had developed it of late. At his heart he wanted a transfer from Rourkela. He was afraid, if he continued longer, there might have some untoward incident. He thought, sooner his transfer, better.

There was political pressure on the head of the Department for his transfer. Some powerful persons including persons of his Department were interested. He was transferred.

It was December. By seven in the evening, deep fog blurred the street lights. Rourkela was very cold and besides, there was cold wind. Ajit had night shift duty. He had taken his car. Manas reclined on the bed resting his head on two pillows kept one over the other. A plate containing cashew nuts was on the bed beside him. He took cashew nut from the plate and munched. Kakoli had already taken two pegs of gin and was preparing the third.

Kakoli did not take drinks every day. She took drinks sometimes. Her favorite was gin with lime. She kept her stock in her house. Someday when she was in right mood she would say, “Let’s have drinks. One peg would make the night lively.” She did not take drinks more than two pegs. But that day she was preparing the third.

Manas noticed for the first time Kakoli had taken something very seriously, and become emotional. On other occasion, she always took every incident lightly, though sometimes it was grave and serious. She said, “So, you are leaving Rourkela.”

“Have to leave. I have a transferable job. I had seven transfers within a decade before I came to Rourkela. Nowhere had I completed two years. At least, I have completed two years here, in Rourkela.”

Kakoli was sitting on the sofa. She was clad in salwar kameej. A scarf covered her chest and breasts. She had beads of sweat on her forehead. A few strands of hair got stuck up with sweat on her neck near her ear. Drinks had its effect on her. She threw away her scarf on the cot. Half of her hair was on her chest and the other half on her back.

 A few strands dangled over her forehead. He brushed back her hair dangled over the forehead with her fingers and took a few cashew nuts. She said, “Manu, you know, conjugal life is just a habit, an addiction. The boy and a girl sat on the marriage altar and had to be initiated into it through a complete set of religious rituals and chanting of mantras. The society enforced it, so that there would be no deviation from its created set of principles. Our conjugal life is just an addiction, a habit; we have been leading our lives as a habit since I married him. But still I cannot love Ajit.”

“Why?” Manas askd.

“I am telling you. I cannot say it to anyone. Who can I confide in? I was in love with Pratap, and then I was in my adolescence. You may call; it was not love, but infatuation. But I was in love; at least, I considered the feelings I had with him then as love. My parents were against it. They beat me. Pratap was also beaten. All these made me obstinate. I vowed not to marry anyone. When proposal from Ajit’s side came, I managed to get his address and wrote a letter to him. That I am in love with someone, I am interested to marry him. Please don’t proceed with this proposal, on some ground or other, decline to marry me….”

"Is it? What did he do?”
 
“If a girl writes such a letter to her proposed groom even now, he will never marry that girl against her wishes. But this happened more than twenty two years back. Ajit received the letter. Still he came as a groom and married me. Do you know why? He told my beauty had made her mad. He fell in love with me at first sight. In our locality, in the nearby villages, his respect went up.

The reason, he became the son in law of the Chhotray clan. It was not a small achievement for him. After all, he was son of a farmer, a small farmer. His father ploughed on in the field. They had only five or six acres of landed property. But he was a good student, by dint of hard work he could be an engineer. His marriage with me, a beauty and the daughter of the Chhotray family was a great prize for him, a prized possession.”

Kakoli heaved a sigh. She took a sip from the glass and said, “Ajit has still that interiority complex. He forced me to drink. He took me to the club and encouraged me to drink. Do you know why? If I don’t drink, people would take him to be rustic, a country boy. But the reason is he wants to cover up his identity of being a farmer’s son, forget his past. To be in the company of the so called big persons, to impress his senior officers by the beauty and charm of his wife, he visits club, takes me with him. These he considers aspects of modernity, at least, he thinks so…..”

She could speak no farther, and went to the bathroom.

Manas was lying on the bed and looking at the roof. Their two empty glasses were on the centre table. Her scarf was on the sofa. He took the scarf and inhaled it. A cool and gentle smell intoxicated him. At the moment he felt he could not leave Kakoli. He had been in Rourkela since two years four months and eleven days.

He met Kakoli after almost one year after he had come to Rourkela. During this brief period, she had made him feel her own. No one till now he had come in contact with had made him feel so as Kakoli had. Not his wife. But he knew, Kakoli could not cross the limit, she could not go beyond a point in her relation with him. His wife might look untidy or clumsy, but he could not leave her. Cracks might have developed in his family, but he would rather repair it than widen the cracks. He felt pain in his heart. He pressed Kakoli’s white scarf to his chest and face.

He did not notice when Kakoli had come from the bathroom and stood in the room. She surprised him by saying, “What problem Mr Kennedy has when Myrelyn Monro is with him……”

Kakoli took away the scarf from him and covered her chest. She raised his face with her palms, kissed on his forehead and said, “Won’t you come Rourkela after you leave?”

Manas could not speak, he just stared at her. She said, “If there will be any work, you will come and meet me. Don’t forget……”

Kakali’s cool touch and warm kisses made his eyes close.
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