He got up lazily as the knocking grew louder. It was his landlord asking for the rent which was two months due already. The conversation was ordinary, his landlord complaining about the power cuts, water from the taps and pointing out how difficult it was to manage these things. And that he should be grateful of the services and pay on time. He, on the other hand, nodding his head silently and at the end promising to clear his due in a week’s time.[break]
After he shut the door, he went back to his bed. It’s strange, he thought, why did I think it could be dad? He remembered his dad, his baba, what could he be doing now? He turned his head to the table clock, 7:42, read the digital piece. He must be out in a teashop, discussing politics with the old folks of the village.
It has been months he saw his dad. “But I saw him yesterday,” he said out loud, puzzled.
He saw his father in the evening when he was back from the union’s office. After a meeting that went on for two hours which decided to stage protests and burn tyres if necessary in Ratna Park. He was frustrated already with too many protests and he particularly hated them because he was allergic to smoke that came from burning tyres.
In his first year in college, he loved these protests. He had to get into the student union anyhow then. But he was tired now. How can we have different issues to stage protests against every single week, he thought as he unlocked the door to his flat.
The sight of his baba was like a palliative lotion on his burning mind. His baba was sitting in a bamboo chair beside his bed. But somehow, he wasn’t excited or in any way surprised. He had a strange feeling.
Illustration: Sworup Nhasiju
“How are you?” said his baba. The voice had no emotion and it sounded hollow as if it was coming from the other side of a tunnel.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m the Master,” replied the voice.
“But baba?” he said.
“I’m not your baba, I’m the Master. You see, I like to be seen in the way you would like me to see. From my experience, I feel that this is necessary to avoid weird encounters and it’s easy to start conversation.”
“What do you what?”
The Master stood from the chair; he walked slowly towards him and said in a whisper-like tone, “What do YOU want?”
“I don’t know,” he said, confused.
But he knew what he wanted. He wanted to change everything he got. He was tired of living with a false notion of political values of his union. He wanted to live like everyone their union criticized, go to expensive pubs, ride a fashionable bike and have loads of money to spend wherever he liked to. Like his landlord’s son.
He again realized the Master’s presence. He looked at him, still unsure of what he was asking about. But the Master was already smiling which soon turned into a grin or maybe he was just smiling. He could not make out at all. It seemed as if everything faded out.
“Bikas, Bikas.”
Somebody was calling his name again, this time the voice was louder.
He opened the door to see his landlord again. “My son is lying unconscious in his room. Please help me carry him to the car.”
They both ran upstairs immediately.
The vision cleared as he walked towards a bike and sat on it. Before he knew it, he started the engine and rushed it on the road. He was suddenly scared. “I don’t even have a license,” he remembered.
“Yes I do.”
“Master?”
“No”
“Then who?”
“You tell me, you’re the other one who came into my mind.” He heard a voice
“I’m Bikas. And what is…errr..”
“Aren’t you the one who lives downstairs?”
He went stiff. “So, am I living in the body of the landlord’s son?”
“You aren’t living; you are just here for a while. Well, I’m just here for a while, too. I am Pratik, by the way. And let the body go loose. You’re holding it so tight that I can’t even move it on my own.”
“I can hold your body? I thought you were the one who’s controlling it.”
“I control it but you can exert your will, too. Well, that’s the whole point why you’re here.”
“Why?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
The landlord’s family surrounded the doctor as soon as he exited the ward.
“It’s clear that he attempted suicide. His wrist is cut severely and it seems he was on drugs the night before. It’s very difficult to say anything,” the doctor said as if he had rehearsed his answer.
“The Master had told me that he would send someone, you know, to help me. You wanted my life, didn’t you? But I want to get rid of this. The Master had told me that I’ll find someone who’ll want my lifestyle but nothing can convince me now. But I decided to go with his deal anyway so that I can complete my mission.”
“Wait, what deal? What mission?”
“I want you to kill me.”
“What?”
“Nobody will know. You aren’t even here physically. You just have to do as I say. That’s all.”
“I won’t. And if you want to die, why don’t you kill yourself?”
“You think I haven’t tried?”
They fell silent again. Pratik took out a cigarette and started smoking.
“Hey, stop it. I hate smoke.”
“Really? But I need to smoke this and you need to smoke, too. Trust me, it’ll ease you.”
“Smoke suffocates me. But sometimes I feel everything except smoke suffocates me. When I stand on the road with a tyre ready to flame it, I know I’m not going to like it, I know people around aren’t going to like it, yet I burn it. And the reasons and the decisions to burn the tyre suffocate me.”
He continued, “You know, I used to love Shiva Ratri. My friends and I used to make enough money to last for our two days of luxury on chocolates by blocking people in narrow lanes. I even loved the light at night but I hated the smoke. I remember its smell, so clearly. That’s why I can say that you aren’t just smoking a cigarette, its marijuana.”
A loud cry drew him back to the hospital. The landlord’s wife was crying so hard it seemed she was about to lose her consciousness.
“He must’ve died,” he thought.
But he couldn’t remember what happened after they were smoking in the old house. “Did he cut his wrists or did I do it for him?”
He started sweating again. He remembered sweating badly the night before, after he saw the landlord’s son lying on his back, his wrists cut. He was struggling to breathe.
“Thanks friend. See you on the greener side,” he had told him.
The only thing he remembered was he was sweating, profusely, as he was trying to run.
Related story
Side effects from COVID-19 booster shots more common than from...
